


Overwatch Drabbles

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-01-11 18:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 396
Words: 80,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18429689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: A collection of my 5 sentence (ish) drabbles.(All chapters are individually labelled with character/ship and prompt.)- other ships featured include Symbra, Widowtracer, McGenji, Gencio, Genyatta, Gency, Akanzo. As well as gen - Shimada brothers, Hana & 76.





	1. Bastion & Overwatch Member + Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> All of these are drabbles that have been requested. Please feel free to request some either here in the comments or over on my [Tumblr](https://https://akikonatsuko.tumblr.com/). All I need is a character(s)/ship and a one word prompt.

    Hanzo frowned, coming to a halt as he heard a soft, agitated beeping coming from one of the side rooms and he hesitated for a moment…he had made it his policy not to get overly involved with his colleagues, but there was something about the noise that tugged at him and with a sigh he turned and quietly moved towards the room. When he opened the door he was alarmed to find Bastion’s gun pointed at him, his display flickering between blue and red, the agitated beeping becoming more and more upset by the moment.

“Bastion…” He began to back away, only for them both to flinch at the sound of gunfire that filled the air and it took the archer a moment to realise that the room backed onto one of the training rooms, and apparently someone was putting it to good use…hearing another beep he turned back to his companion, eyes widening as he realised the robot was backing into the corner and his eyes softened…he had heard the others mention this, but it was the first time he had seen it. “Bastion,” he repeated more softly, only this time he cautiously moved forward, highly aware of the gun tracking his every movement, but to his relief it didn’t fire and eventually he was close enough to reach out and rest his hand on top of the robot. “Be calm…you’re safe here. You’re safe.”


	2. Tracer + Time

     There were times like this…missions where even her ability to backtrack through time wasn’t enough to protect everyone, that Tracer would find herself running her fingers over the chronal accelerator… wondering whether she would be better off still lost in the constant stream of time.  She had hated being a living ghost, hated the fact that she had nothing to cling on to, but at least then she hadn’t had to deal with the burden of knowing that she had failed. Her fingers were just beginning to tighten as though to tear it away from her front, when something collided with her and it took her a moment to realise a little girl, barely more than five or six had just bolted out of the chaos and latched onto her leg, sobbing her eyes out. At once Tracer let go of the accelerator, lifting the girl into her hug, and trying her best to manage a smile as she reached up to wipe away the tears.

“Easy Love…you’re safe now,” she whispered, taking in the smudges, small cuts and hollow eyes that showed that the girl had been through hell and her arms tightened around her. “You’re safe.” It was a promise and a reminder of why she was still here, why she had stopped falling through time so that she could help people, and this time her smile was more genuine. “You’re safe…”


	3. Tracer/Emily + First Meeting

   She was falling again, tumbling through space with nothing to slow her fall, nothing to tie her to the real world apart from the odd flash of realities that she had no idea if she would ever see again. It came as a surprise when she suddenly flickered back into the real world, in mid-air no less, a startled yelp escaping as the floor and a very startled looking girl rushed up to meet her. The impact stunned her, and for a few minutes she just lay there breathing deeply, head pounding and heart racing…finally blinking when there was a soft moan, something warm and soft stirring beneath and she sat up with a yelp, blushing as she realised that she was straddling the girl from before. Wide, brown eyes blinked up at her and Tracer could feel her blush intensifying as her breath caught in her chest…maybe it was because it was the first human contact she’d had in a while, or maybe it was the soft, confused smile crossing the girl’s face…but it took her a moment to gather her thoughts enough to get her voice to work.

“Hi there love…”


	4. Mei x Hanzo x Jesse + Tickle Fight

     It was Jesse that started it. That was the only thing any of them could agree on when they collapsed in an exhausted heap on the bed nearly half an hour later, shifting nervously whenever someone so much as made a sound. Mei was still giggling, a soft breathless noise as she stared at Hanzo who looked as though he still didn’t have a clue what had just happened…he had been the slowest to join in with the tickle fight, despite being Jesse’s first victim after he had ignored the gunslinger’s other attempts to cheer him up.

“You look like you’ve never had a tickle fight,” Jesse had also noticed Hanzo’s expression, leaning up one arm to study him with a frown and Mei fell quiet as she felt Hanzo tense at the teasing comment, reaching out to gently brush his shoulder in encouragement when she realised he was struggling to get his voice to work.

 “It was something I used to do with Genji…but I had forgotten.”


	5. Pharmercy + Sky

“Do you have to keep doing this?” Mercy asked softly, already knowing the answer as she worked on Pharah’s injuries, trying not to look at the dented armour piled beside them. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch her girlfriend up after being knocked out of the sky, her stomach still twisting itself in knots as the image of Pharah tumbling earthwards replayed through her mind. “I hate it when this happens…what if one day…” She isn’t given a chance to force the words out, Pharah’s finger pressing lightly on her lips, dark eyes soft as she shakes her head.

“My mother devoted her life to watching over people, but she couldn’t watch out for herself,” Pharah’s voice is soft, pain and regret hidden in the words although her expression is clear as she glances upwards at the sky. “In the sky, there is no one above me. I can protect everyone, I can protect you and not sacrifice myself.”


	6. Pharmercy + Angel

“Your Guardian Angel is here.” Pharah smirked at the familiar words, feeling warm arms snaking around her from behind and tilting her head in time to meet Mercy’s kiss, pressing their noses together before teasing the blonde.

“That line doesn’t work on someone whose seen your lingerie collection, or had to endure you’re early morning grumpiness.” Her partner was a fiend first thing in the morning, but that side of her personality had always disappeared by the time she got to work so only Pharah had to endure it…it was certainly less pleasant than the lingerie collection.  However, the blush that had greeted her teasing words certainly made it worthwhile enduring and she chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to each flaming cheek before capturing her lips tenderly. “You’re still my Angel though.”


	7. Widowmaker + Memory

    It had been happening more and more often, little flickers of memories, images that she couldn’t place and yet felt a flicker of recognition towards flashing through her mind. Warm eyes, a gentle voice rising in sudden fear that would make her flinch, missing the easiest of shots…the sensation of gentle hands cradling her face that would make her turn her back on an injured opponent. It was a weakness and in the past, she would have crushed it ruthlessly, asked Talon to remove the images, to give her back the peaceful emptiness that killing had once given her. Instead she found herself pulling on a coat, making up some excuse to her companions, not even sure what she had said before slipping out of the door and heading out into the winter weather. It had been a long time since she had taken this path, in fact she had no idea how she knew where to go and yet too soon she found herself in front of his grave, snow falling around her as she stared at the name carved in the rock with strangely stinging eyes.

“Why? Why can’t I forget you? Forget them…?”


	8. Genyatta + Touch

    Genji is tense, studying the hand that Zenyatta was holding out towards him with narrowed eyes, for once glad of the mask that hides his expression. He had always felt comfortable around the monk, even when he was at his angriest, but this was something new…touch…letting himself peel away his armour and reveal whatever remained of his human self was something he had denied himself ever since the transformation, flinching away whenever anyone got too close and hiding himself under the armour. He hesitates, lifting his head just enough to meet Zenyatta’s calm gaze, feeling some of his panic settling as he detects nothing but patience from his companion, realising that he could pull back, chicken out today and the monk would still be there waiting for him. It’s that realisation that has him reaching down, slowly peeling removing the armour from his hand, shuddering slightly at the sight of the scarred flesh beneath, for the most part he’s accepted it, but there are still times like this that he flinches away from it. However, he doesn’t let himself falter, taking a deep breath before cautiously reaching out, jumping when his skin brushes the cool metal of Zenyatta’s hands, but not pulling back, instead slowly tangling their fingers together.


	9. Hana & 76 + Daughter

“Here,” Hana’s voice was soft, ignoring Jack’s protest when she pushed his hands out of the way so that she could fix the tie he’d been fumbling with for the last few minutes, a task made harder by the fact that he had forgone his visor for today. With an exasperated sigh that was more aimed at himself than her, he let her have her way, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to grasp the sleeve of her dress for a moment.

“Are you sure about this?”

“About getting married?” She asked, a warning note in her voice and he smiled at that, whilst he had been one of the worst when it came to threatening her boyfriend at the start he had been the first to accept the engagement, and she was unsurprised when he shook his head, visibly hesitating.

“About me giving you away…” He still sounded as lost as he had the day she had asked him, and her expression softened as she finished fixing his tie before pulling him into a tight hug, burying her face against his chest for a moment.

“I’m sure.”


	10. Hana & 76 + Protective

“Soldier! JACK!” There’s no way she can remain professional right now, terror lending her voice volume as she shifts so that her mech is stood directly over the older man, determined to protect him from any further damage. Inside her head, she’s cursing up a storm, she had seen the turret turning towards him but she hadn’t been able to get there in time, her defence matrix still recharging…they had done this a hundred times in the training range and yet when it had mattered the timing had been off.  “Jack!” There was nothing but static over the communicator, the worried voices from the others cutting out as they waited or answer, the silence grating on her nerves as she tried to get a good look at him without shifting from her current position.  “Jack, answer me! Damn it answers me!”

“Stop cursing at me…”


	11. Hana & 76 + Meddling

     Jack stared at Hana incredulously, for a wild moment hoping that his hearing was finally going the same way as his eyesight…but no, there was an expectant look in her eyes as she held out the outfit she was holding, and a mischievous smirk that made him nervous.

“No.” There was no way he was going on a date, especially not with him…and especially not when he hadn’t been the one to reply to the message, but rather the meddling children that he seemed to have gained in recent years. His blunt response earning a pout, and a scowl from Hana, before she deliberately widened her eyes and he quailed as she opened her mouth, already knowing what she was about to say and that there was no way he was going to be able to deny her.

“Please?” _Damn it, there it was…_ He tried, he really did, opening his mouth to refuse again…but the words wouldn’t come, not when she was looking at him like that and he felt his shoulders slump in defeat a moment later.

“Fine…”


	12. Hana & 76 + Stream

It had taken her nearly a month of whining, begging and blackmail to get Soldier 76 to agree to participate in her next streaming session. She had thought that it would be fun to see if his aim was as good in games as it was in real life, but what she hadn’t expected was to get her ass handed to her for the first time in ages, the controller falling from her lap as she gaped at the screen before turning to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“How?”  He smirked at her for a moment, before his expression softened as he surrendered his controller to her, before patting her softly on the shoulder.

“You’re not the only one who uses games to unwind on sleepless nights, it’s been a while since I’ve played but I haven’t forgotten how.” Hana stares at him for a moment, thinking back to the times when she had caught him sneaking out of the common room late at night, just as she was heading in to try and relax and she groaned.

 “I hate you…”  


	13. SombraMaker + Alive

    She had been about to die. She knew that much with absolute clarity, which didn’t explain how she was still there, still on one piece, albeit trembling as she leant back against the wall. Blinking, fingers still clutching her rifle protectively against her chest she lifted her head as Sombra sank to the floor in front of her.

 “Let’s not do that again,” Sombra muttered with a sigh, before lifting her head to scowl at Widowmaker, although it was the concern in the purple eyes rather than the scowl that caught the older woman’s attention, guilt that she didn’t fully understand squirming in the pit of her stomach. “Idiota! You’re always telling me to be more careful, and then you nearly get yourself killed because you can’t let go of a grudge?”

“Sombra…”

“I prefer you alive thank you very much,” Sombra cut her off, glaring at her for a moment before cautiously reaching out to brush her fingers against the hand griping the rifle, just a brief touch to take the sting out of her words before rising to her feet and stalking to the door. “Now stay here whilst I see what’s going on.”


	14. SombraMaker + Electricity

“Will you please stop playing with the lights?” Widowmaker grumbled under her breath, tugging lightly at Sombra’s hair when the younger woman made the lights flicker on and off a couple more time before leaning back against her. She didn’t apologise, and to be honest Widowmaker hadn’t been expecting her to. They were both on edge, their last mission had been a failure and Talon had been less than forthcoming about what going to happen next…both of them painfully aware that they were expendable, to Talon at least…and so they waited and planned, and in Sombra’s case fiddled. It had started earlier, her fingers tapping in a restless pattern as the appliances in the small apartment turned themselves on and off, a nervous tick, and now it was the lights. Sighing, she ran her fingers through Sombra’s hair, trying to distract her, unsurprised when the lights continued to flicker on and off even as Sombra curled against her.


	15. MeiMaker + Kisses

    Surprise kisses it turned out didn’t work very well when your girlfriend was jumpy, and had a tendency to hide herself in ice when she got too was startled or embarrassed. It had taken her several encounters with said ice, and the resulting frozen lips to teach her that, and whilst it should have been frustrating the flustered, pink-faced expression that Mei would give her when the ice melted more than made up for it. As did the soft blush that would greet her when she would slowly, deliberately lean in to steal a kiss, making sure that Mei knew what she had intended. However, without a doubt her favourite ones were when Mei would lean up, cheeks alight even after all this time, lightly tugging at her sleeve to make her move…slowly giving into the silent demand and meeting her halfway, the first brush of their lips soft and hesitant, but growing firmer, a chill dancing across her lips as Mei’s confidence grows.


	16. MeiMaker + Coffee

    Widowmaker stilled as she heard the anguished noise from the kitchen, eyes widening as she shot to her feet as it was immediately followed by an angry growl. Admittedly the noise itself sounded more like a cat with a head cold, but she knew from painful experience that a caffeine deprived Mei could be far more dangerous, and she was backing away even as her girlfriend stepped into the room.

“You! You…” It’s late, far too late for either of them to be awake, but between being cryogenically frozen for years and everything that Talon had done, neither of them sleep well…Mei’s case being made worse by the fact that she drinks coffee by the gallon even this late at night if she can get away with it. “You hid the coffee!” Mei finally gets the words she needs, eyes narrowed behind her glasses, although her irritated expression is ruined by the wide yawn that escapes a moment later. Taking advantage of that brief moment of distraction Widowmaker closes the distance between them, deciding to risk it as she gently wraps the shorter woman in a hug.

“Forgive me?” She murmurs, punctuating her words with a gentle kiss. “Please come to bed now, ma chérie?”


	17. MeiMaker + Halloween

      Mei had been surprised when Amelie had agreed to decorating the house for Halloween that year, at least until they were in the shops and trying to find decorations and she realised that her girlfriend had ulterior motives for agreeing.

“We can’t just have spiders,” Mei chided as she glanced into the basket, sighing at the pile of fake webs and plastic spiders that had been accumulated whilst she was distracted. Ignoring the pout that greeted her words she wrapped her arm around Amelie’s and pulled her across to the rest of the Halloween distractions with a smile. “Come on, let’s look at the other stuff as well.” Somehow, she was unsurprised when they left the shop with more spider-related decorations than anything else, but it was worth it for the small smile that Amelie couldn’t quite hide when they decorated the house…and any disappointment she might have felt was eased by her girlfriend feeding her chocolate after scaring the kids away before they could deplete their supplies.


	18. WidowTracer + Poison

There was the flash of light, dimmed by the cloud of purple that had immediately followed it and Widowmaker’s eyes narrowed, waiting for the tell-tale flash of blue that would tell her that Tracer had escaped yet again. It was always the same, they would find each other in whatever fight their respective sides were embroiled in this side, and their deadly game would resume…she had lost track of the number of times they had clashed, and the near misses. Normally the fact that her target had escaped so many times would infuriate her…it did infuriate her, especially when Tracer would grin at her, teasing and welcoming as always, as though they hadn’t just been trying to kill one another. The blur of blue hadn’t appeared and despite herself she moved, inching out of her hiding spot, fingers tightening around her gun… _come on…_ a new emotion began to churn beneath the irritation and the thrill of the chase, and she was about to emerge completely, when the familiar, irritatingly cheerful voice piped up from behind her.

“Aww, you do care.”


	19. Pharmercy + Justice

     The television was on when she stepped into their quarters, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from darting to the screen, closing her eyes after a moment, wishing that it was enough to block out the images she had just seen. What had once been a busy marketplace had been left in ruins, bodies laid out on the broad walk…Talon’s work, work that they had been too late to stop and slowly she forced herself to open her eyes once more and focus on the still figure curled at the edge of the couch. Fareeha had been silent earlier, refusing to speak at the briefing, barely reacting even when Angela had tried to draw her attention and it looked like little had changed over the last couple of hours. Sighing, her heart aching at the sight of her girlfriend looking so small, so fragile, she moved around the couch and settled cautiously beside her, hesitating for half a moment before reaching out to grasp the nearest hand. For a moment, there was no response, but then warm fingers curled slowly around hers, the grip tightening until it was just bordering on painful but this time when she looked up Fareeha met her gaze, the blankness from earlier slowly giving way to grief and determination.

“Next time we will stop them…this time…this time, I’m going to make them pay.”


	20. Symbra + Twilight

     It was nearly time she thought glancing up at the darkening sky, sharp eyes spotting the first stars starting to become visible above her and smiling for a moment before lowering her head, searching the shadows for the faint flicker of purple that would indicate Sombra’s arrival. Part of her regretted the need to sneak around like this, and she had lost count of the number of times she had tried to persuade the other woman to just come and join them, and the number of times she had failed. She understood…sort of…Sombra had her own goals, ones that were best served where she was right now and she didn’t want to get in the way of them, but still, it would be nice not to fear the reaction to their relationship, to be able to tell the others how many times the hacker had saved them by now. Maybe she would try again tonight to persuade Sombra, probably not, she amended as she caught the faint flicker of purple a moment before Sombra shimmered into view, a welcoming smile creeping onto her face as she stepped forward to meet her. Their time together was short enough as it was, and so she banished those thoughts for now, willingly allowing herself to be pulled into a hug as soon as she was within Sombra’s reach, sighing as she buried her nose into Sombra’s shoulder. _Yes, it could wait…_


	21. Symbra + Baby

     Human interactions had never been her strong suit, it had been easier to bury herself in science, in her experiments and hold herself aloof. Overwatch had been the first to crack her walls, the other agents welcoming her in a way she had never thought possible and she had found herself responding, still uncertain and awkward at times but getting better. It had been Sombra who had shattered her walls, her fears, forcing herself into her life as though she had hacked everything that made Symetra who she was and making herself at home…suddenly she found herself interacting in new terrifying ways, opening up, learning and loving every moment of it. But now…right now she was out of her depths, terror clogging up her voice as she clutched at Sombra, her walls rising once more as she watched the medics working to keep the hacker alive…to make her stay, and her hands tightened on her girlfriend, terrified about losing her…about losing both of them, and eventually her voice rose up, a weak whisper almost lost in the noise around them.

“Please baby…don’t leave me.”


	22. Doomzo + Reinforce

   Hanzo had known that this was coming from the moment he had first encountered Akande in the field, he had even invited it, deliberately targeting the larger man in the field, although never coming close enough to really harm him. He didn’t want to. Which was why he was already lowering his bow as Akande prowled towards him, gaze never shifting from, his expression giving nothing away and Hanzo felt the same shiver running down his spine that he had felt years ago when they had first met. Unable to resist he tilted his head to the side, fighting not to smile when he saw an answering flash in Akande’s eyes, but something must have shown because a second later there were fingers against his throat, not tight enough to hurt, but a threat and a reminder all at once and now he swallowed. Not through fear, he had never feared the man now towering over him, but because that single touch and the heat now rising in response to it were reinforcing the fact that he had always been Akande’s…and that he didn’t want to change that, no matter what he had told himself over the years.


	23. Gency + Bubbles

_One hundred and six…one hundred…one._ Angela faltered, hands curling in her lap, frustration rising as she realised that she had lost count yet again. How many times had she lost count now? How many times had she started over? She didn’t want to know, she didn’t want to start all over again, but she did. She focused on another bubble as it rose slowly through the viscous fluid, refusing to let her gaze shift to Genji’s still figure floating peacefully amid the bubbles, not want to see the damaged features and eyes that hadn’t opened yet despite her best efforts, instead focusing on the numbers. _One…two._


	24. Lucio/Genji – Carefree

It was impossible not to relax when Lúcio was nearby, the Brazilian was made for fun and laughter and the warmth that he exuded crept into everyone. Genji had done his best to stay aloof, still working to come to terms with his dual nature, but despite his best efforts he found himself drawn to the younger man like a moth to the flame. It was nostalgic.  Being with Lúcio was like a blast from the past, reminding the ninja of how he had been…young, carefree, with a passion for life that he hadn’t even realised he’d lost…and before he’d even realised what had happened the singer had brought his barriers crashing downing around him.


	25. Winston + Space

   It was strange, he had spent so much of his time in the lunar colony paying more attention to the beautiful view of Earth…and the opportunity’s that he had thought waited for him there…and yet nowadays he found himself lying outside into the wee hours of the night and staring up at space. His namesake had joked that there wasn’t much out there…but after seeing the destruction that was occurring all over earth, Winston couldn’t help but wonder if there were other worlds out there experiencing the same difficulties and conflicts that they were suffering. Were there other worlds, with people looking out to space for answers? Were there other children looking out into space and searching for the endless possibilities that lay ahead of them? He hoped so…he hoped that he wasn’t alone in these dreams, regardless of who or what those others were…and he hoped that his mentor was still out there in space, watching him and seeing what he was doing with the knowledge he had given him.


	26. Tracer/Widowmaker + Moon

Night-time had always been their time, whether that was because it had been that night in London that they had first clashed…an event that neither of them could have predicted would lead to their current situation, tangled together on a bed in a small hotel in the backstreets of London. It was here in these brief moments that they could forget that they were on opposite sides of the conflict…and it was during these long nights, when Tracer no longer felt the need to maintain her overly sunny personality, and when Amélie allowed her emotionless mask to fade a little that they felt the closest. It was in the wee hours, under the light of the moon that they could say everything that could never be spoken during the day, weapons cast aside and conflicts forgotten. It was at these times that they allowed themselves to hope that at some point in the future, the moon would eclipse the sun completely, allowing them to stand together openly.


	27. Tracer/Mercy + Waking up to a Sunrise

Tracer loved mornings like these, when neither of them were out in the field and when Mercy hadn’t been called in for a medical emergency…rare mornings when she would wake up still in her girlfriend’s protective embrace. They were both early risers it came with the job and more often than not they would be up in time to watch the sunrise, sitting side by side on the edge of the bed, cradling mugs of tea to greet the morning. However, her favourite mornings were ones like this when she woke first, the warm light of the sunrise beginning to creep through the blinds they had forgotten to close the night before and bathing them both in its glow. On these mornings she would wiggle until she was lying facing the taller women, still safely tucked in her arms, watching the myriad expressions that would cross Mercy’s face as she drifted to awareness. This was her own personal sunrise, the light growing stronger behind the older woman and giving her a soft, angelic glow and she couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and kiss her softly, whispering a soft greeting against pliant lips as blue eyes flickered open.


	28. Tracer/Widowmaker + Glances

   She had her sights lined up perfectly, her finger ready on the trigger, it was a simple shot…a death that would be over in seconds, but just as her finger began to tighten she froze, feeling a strange pressure. In the past she would have been able to ignore it, and she tried…for all of a minute before lifting her head away from the scope and glancing around. It didn’t take her long to find the source of her distraction, her expression twisting with a mixture of annoyance and longing as she spotted the distinctive blue glow of Tracer’s accelerator a few windows down in the neighbouring building, and whilst she couldn’t make out her face, she could imagine the wide-eyes, the innocent expression and she cursed. She had no idea how the girl kept finding her, always able to spot her no matter how well she hid, or why those glance from afar could bring her to a halt, and she gritted her teeth as she lowered the weapon knowing that there was no way she could go through with it now…not under that gaze, and she closed her eyes as she imagined the smile that must be creeping across the girl’s face right now.


	29. Ana & Widowmaker (non-romantic) + Recognition

“We appear to be at a shared disadvantage,” Ana commented, sounding as calm and disinterested as if she was talking about the weather, rather than staring down her rifle at Widowmaker…the other sniper trying to match her calmness, although the glint in her eyes told her that the Talon operative had more invested in this than she did, it explained why the other woman had actually closed in, in person rather than making the most of her vantage point.

“I’m not at a disadvantage…”

“I said we both were,” Ana pointed out mildly, somewhat surprised that she didn’t feel any particular hatred towards the woman who had taken her eye…she had lost that battle, and she had to acknowledge the French woman’s skill. “You’re a skilled sniper, you always were…and always will be, and one day I hope that we can discover which of us it the more skilled,” she added with blunt honesty, her grip not loosening as Widowmaker’s expression darkened for a moment, clearly studying her expression for any hint of a lie before she sighed softly.

“I look forward to that day.”


	30. Genyatta + Peace

    When he had first arrived in Nepal he couldn’t wait to leave again, unable to see what he was going to find in a place like this, surrounded by monks. Now as he stood waiting for Zenyatta to finish saying farewell to his brothers, he couldn’t help but wish they could stay, his gaze drifting over the mountains and buildings that had become more of a home to him than Hanamura had ever been. Here, in the middle of nowhere he had found more than he had ever thought possible. He had gained a home and a family, and found himself again, making peace with what he had been and what he had lost and he had found... He paused, a small smile crossing his lips as he caught the soft sound of Zenyatta moving to join him, turning just in time to meet tranquil blue optics. He doubted that he would have been able to leave again if it wasn’t for Zenyatta agreeing to come with him, just as he knew that he wouldn’t be the man he was without the Omnic.


	31. D.Va + Fierce

    There had been times when she had first joined the military that she had regretted it, fearing that she would never fit in, that she wasn’t made to be a soldier, a hero. That feeling had faded with time as she found her niche, the controls of her Mech feeling as though they had been made just for her, and yet now as she glanced around the briefing room she felt the feeling surging back to the front. Here, in a foreign base she was faced with faces that she had pinned to her walls as a child, heroes, soldiers...people who were looking at her to help, looking at her with cool and appraising eyes and she felt the doubt rising, wondering what they saw, wondering if she could ever match up to their expectations. In the past she might have retreated, hidden away, but now she held her head high and kept her expression neutral, even as she twisted her fingers together behind her back, her inner voice fierce as she forced herself to hold her ground. _I’ve earnt the right to stand here, I’ve fought a war too, I might not be a hero yet…but I am soldier._


	32. Jack x Gabe + Dryad

   Gabriel was careful not to move as he heard the leaves rustling above him, knowing that if he did anything suspicious then the last few weeks of trying to befriend the Dryad currently moving into sight would be wasted. Wary blue eyes studied him for several minutes, darting away to scan the area around them even though he had never once brought anyone else with him, hell he wasn’t sure that anyone else in the village knew that this small glade and the majestic oak that dominated it even existed. He hoped not, holding his breath as the Dryad seemed about to flee for a moment before he took a deep breath, visibly gathering his courage before swinging himself down to the ground, landing gracefully at Gabriel’s feet.

“You came back,” the Dryad’s voice was soft and brought to his mind the image of trees rustling in a summer breeze, and as always Gabriel felt himself smiling at the sound, meeting blue eyes without hesitation. The surprise hurt, because he had never once missed a visit or broken his word, but last time he had been forced to flee so that he didn’t betray the Dryad’s location when they had heard huntsmen in the distance.

“I promised.”


	33. Reyes & McCree + Werewolf

    Reyes hesitated for a moment outside the steel door to McCree’s containment cell, eyebrows rising at the sight of the wolf-sized dents in the metal, making a mental note to have it reinforced before keying in the security code and pulling it open. McCree was huddled in the corner, what remained of his clothes laid over his lap to protect his dignity, amber-tinted eyes that showed the wolf was still close to the surface darting to him for a moment before glancing away in embarrassment. He sighed, wishing that the kid would get it through his head that Reyes wasn’t going to change his mind about letting him stay because of this furry little problem…even if having a Werewolf, even a lanky-legged pup like McCree, on base was proving to be a headache. Instead he stepped forward and held out the spare clothes he had brought along after the chaos last time when McCree had been left without a stitch of clothing to his name and had to hustle through the back corridors in little more than Reye’s jacket.

“Put those on, it’s time for breakfast and then you can sleep.”

“But…”

“I took you off the training roster for today,” Reyes cut off the protest, but he knows that McCree doesn’t want special treatment and his grin is positively wicked as he adds. “Although you’ll be doing double tomorrow.”


	34. Reyes & McCree + Caring

    Reyes blinked as he stepped into his office to find a plate of food and a still-steaming mug of coffee sitting in the middle of a desk, with a note declaring ‘Eat Me’ next to it, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recognised the appalling scrawl. McCree was still a pain in the bum, struggling to adjust to the rules and regulations of an organisation like Blackwatch and he had a habit of running his tongue when he had no way of backing it up…but the kid cared. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like this, just little things for those who had earned his trust or respect…meals when they had no time to hit the canteen, laundry done even though the folding left a lot to be desired. Shaking his head, and making a mental note to thank McCree the next time he saw him…and not just for the opportunity to see him go bright red and stammer out excuses…and to make sure that he had stopped hoarding food in his room, Reyes made his way to his desk and sat down just as his stomach rumbled loudly.


	35. Reyes & McCree + Discovery

“What the hell is this?” Reyes demanded as he stared down at the packets of food littering the floor of McCree’s room, packets that the younger man were frantically trying to shove out of sight even though it was clearly too late. “McCree?”

“It’s nothing.” It was the same shifty tone that McCree had used during his interrogation when he had tried to lie about his age, and Reyes narrowed his eyes, less than happy at the thought of being lied to until he spotted the fear hidden beneath the cocky expression. He paused, dark eyes trailing over the food once more and noting that it was largely preserved foods, stuff that would last for a while, and an unpleasant thought occurred to him…remembering the way that McCree still hunkered over his food in the canteen, as though it would be taken from him if he let his guard down for a moment. Sighing, almost wishing that he didn’t understand he crouched down, careful not to touch the food, instead waiting for McCree to meet his gaze.

“I’ll ignore this for now, but McCree…Jesse, no one is going to stop you from eating here. No one.”


	36. Reyes & McCree + Rescue

McCree hissed under his breath as he ducked around a corner, sparing a quick glance at the bloody gash in his shirt sleeve before dismissing the wound despite the burning pain, instead focusing on reloading his weapon just in time to shoot as another assailant came charging around the corner at him. One shot and the man was down, lifeless eyes staring at him, and he fought to hold back a shiver before turning on his heels and bolting down the corridor. It certainly wasn’t his first mission since joining Blackwatch, but it was the first time he had been alone…or rather the first time he had been the one doing the rescuing, and there was a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Reyes was one hell of a fighter, so the fact that they had got him was worrying and a tiny part of him wondered if he would even stand a chance…but he couldn’t, wouldn’t turn back, because despite his gruff attitude and the way he seemed to come down on McCree harder than most, Reyes had rescued him and given him a future. It was time to return the favour.


	37. Reyes & McCree + Adoption

    It wasn’t official, little more than a symbolic gesture and yet that didn’t seem to dampen McCree’s reactions when he hesitantly accepted the papers from Reyes. Tawny eyes widening as he read the papers, done on official Overwatch stationary and signed by the Strike Commander himself…he wasn’t about to ask how that happened…stating clearly in black and white, that he had been adopted by Commander Reyes. It was silly, a gesture that he had argued against, and yet he found himself holding the papers close and clutching them tightly….it was silly, it was unofficial, but it meant that Reyes at least had no intention of casting him aside. It meant that he belonged here, he belonged in Blackwatch…that he was wanted, and that made this silly bundle of papers more precious than the fact that he had roof over his head, or a steady wage in his new bank account, and if his voice was thick as he choked out his gratitude he didn’t care.


	38. Reyes & McCree + Family

“Are you sure about this?” Reyes was about to growl at the question, one that he had heard countless times over the last week and even more today, but his expression softened when he realised how nervous the kid looked, taking in the white-knuckled grip on his case and the way his gaze kept darting back towards the airport. If it was anyone else he would have laughed at them for being so nervous over a simple invitation to spend Christmas with him, but he knew why McCree was nervous, and so his voice was gentle, almost as though he was reaching out to a skittish colt.

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t mean it,” he points out, growling under his breath when that doesn’t seem to ease McCree’s panic. “Come on kid, it’s not that big a deal.” It probably is to McCree, he realises a moment too late, unsurprised when McCree opens his mouth in protest.

“But…”

“Christmas is a time for family, not for spending it alone in Blackwatch quarters.”


	39. Reyes & McCree + Wild

Reyes gagged as he stepped into the room, sharp eyes easily making out the blood stains on the walls, the tools piled on the table in the corner and his fingers tightened on his gun…this was a hellhole, and McCree had been here for nearly three weeks, was there even going to be anything left of the kid to rescue? He shoved that thought aside, refusing to accept that thought, gesturing for his men to collect the evidence before moving on, following a worrying trail of blood down the corridor, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It didn’t take him long to find the cells at the bottom of the corridor, most of them were empty thankfully, the others that were occupied he paused to promise them that more help was going but he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. McCree was in the end cell, a huddled figure in the corner that Gabriel would have missed if he hadn’t been looking for him, and his heart leapt into his throat.

“McCree? Jesse?” He called softly, flinching when a low growl rang through the air, the uneasy feeling in his stomach intensifying when McCree slowly lifted his head and stared at him with wild, tawny eyes… eyes that spoke of pain and anger, and lacked the recognition he had been expecting. “McCree…”


	40. McReyes + Dance

“Why do I have to do this again?” McCree’s voice wasn’t quite a whine but it was close, and Gabriel smirked as he tilted his head to catch the younger man pouting at his reflection, no doubt missing his usual outlandish gear even if he had kept the cowboy hat on.

“Because I have to play nice with the brass and I’m not doing it alone,” Gabriel replied, moving across and yanking the hat off before McCree could stop him, tossing it out of reach and grabbing the hand that immediately shot out in an attempt to catch it. “Besides, I seem to remember someone declaring that he wouldn’t be seen dead at a ball with an old man like me…something about dad dancing?” The choked noise and crimson cheeks made him chuckle, but it was the flustered look that greeted him when he pulled McCree closer and into a waltzing stance that really made him smile, leaning in to brush his lips briefly against McCree’s cheek, before moving towards his ear. “I intend to prove you wrong.”


	41. McReyes + Moonlight

   Gabriel started at the sound of footsteps behind him, automatically reaching for his weapon before he caught the familiar smell of the cigrallos that McCree had taken to smoking, sighing as he moved his hand away from his weapon even as he chided the younger man.

“You should know better than to sneak up of someone around here.”

“I figured that if you were going to shoot me you’d have done it long ago,” McCree teased as he settled on the ledge beside Gabriel, holding out the flask that he already carried…a flash that Gabriel was fairly sure he had confiscated half a dozen times. “Here, you look like you need this more than me.” Gabriel hesitated for a moment before accepting it, pulling a face as he took a mouthful of the cheap whiskey it contained, making a note to introduce McCree to the good stuff at some point. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing out here at this time of night?”

“It’s quiet,” Gabriel settled the flask in his lap so that he could reach out and catch the edge of McCree’s sleeve, stopping him from trying to leave, and turning his gaze back to the base which spread out beneath them, softly lit by the moonlight as he added quietly.  “I see things clearer at night.”


	42. McReyes + Supernatural

    McCree fought to keep his grip on his gun as steady as possible, but it was hard when his heart was hammering in his chest as he stared at the apparition…the figure in front of him. _This isn’t possible._  He hadn’t been there in Zurich the day that everything had come crumbling down, but he had dug around afterwards and he knew that Gabriel Reyes was supposed to have died that day…hell he had even been to his grave, so how the hell was he standing right there in front of him? If it was even him. There had been a time when McCree would have sworn that he would always recognise Gabriel regardless of what had happened to him, but the figure in front of him, with what appears to be black mist swirling around his…its feet and the expressionless skull mask…a shudder went through him. That wasn’t the Gabriel he knew…


	43. McReyes + Goodbye

    McCree had no idea how long he had been stood there in front of the grave, hat held against his chest as he stared at the words carved into the stone, eyes strangely dry although it felt like there was a storm raging in his chest. This wasn’t supposed to have happened…yes, he had left, turned his back on Blackwatch and the man who had seen something in him when everyone else had just seen a lost cause, but he had needed to get away…it hadn’t meant that he didn’t care anymore, or that he wouldn’t have come back eventually. Only now there was nothing to come back to. One day. One explosion. That was all that it had taken to destroy the Zurich base, and with it the entirety of Overwatch and Blackwatch… and Gabriel Reyes. Finally, a tear rolled down his cheek, fingers turning white from how tightly he was clinging to his hat as he fought to get his voice to work.

“Bos…Gabriel, I’m sorry. Sorry that I left, that I didn’t come back in time and…sorry that I couldn’t say goodbye when you were alive to hear it.”


	44. McReyes + First Kiss

This was not how he’d imagined their first kiss. To be honest he hadn’t really allowed himself to spend too much time thinking about, but he had a vague inkling that it would have been nothing like this. He could have done without the pain wracking his entire body, the way it felt as though he couldn’t breathe, the bullet wound in his chest slowly stealing his strength as he stared into crimson eyes. Crimson…if he could he would have laughed, because this was Gabriel and yet it wasn’t…and the older man was kissing him, not soft and gentle, but hard and frantic, the strange mist that he seemed to consist of these days seeping down McCree’s throat and making it burn. He wanted to pull away, to protest…to apologise for being so reckless…but he lacked the strength, and his vision was beginning to darken around the edges even as he felt a strange pinching sensation in his chest, eyes widening with alarm as he felt something going to work on the wound, pulling the edges together and the last thing he was aware of was Gabriel pulling back slightly and growling in his ear.

“You’d better appreciate this…”


	45. McReyes + Lost

****Gabriel tried not so show just how relieved he was when McCree finally emerged from the base, stepping forward to greet him, sharp eyes searching for any hint of an injury. Whilst McCree was covered in the grime of battle and sporting a few cuts and would probably be black and blue by morning, he would be fine, and felt the last of the tension easing.

“Where the hell were you?” It didn’t soften his words though because he had been within minutes of sending in a search and rescue team, refusing to go back without McCree, even if the brass didn’t approve of him risking everyone for a recruit that they were still wary of. McCree had the grace to look apologetic and embarrassed, colour darkening his cheeks as he glanced down and mumbled something under his breath, earning an annoyed growl from Gabriel. “Speak up!”

“I-I got lost.”


	46. McReyes + Farewell

“Are you sure about this?” Gabriel asked, voice soft, the closest he would allow himself to asking McCree to stay with Blackwatch…to stay with him…his dark eyes hopeful as he met McCree’s gaze, although there was a hint of resignation in his expression that said he already knew what the answer was going to be.

“I can’t stay,” McCree muttered, glancing away, hands curling into fists at his side. From the moment, he had decided to leave he had been waiting, hoping, that Gabriel would at least try to say something to stop him, to change his mind…wanting…needing the older man to cast aside the mantle of commander for a while, the weight of all the lies and secrecy that was all Blackwatch seemed to be composed of these days and talk to him properly. Gabriel’s expression darkened, and for a moment it looked as though he might finally say something, but then he sighed and he shook his head.

“I guess this is goodbye then.”


	47. McReyes + Tears

    It was something he had learned early on in their relationship, the louder McCree was, the less okay he was and as he listened to the other man holding court in the back of the plane he knew they were in for a rough night, catching the edge to the laughter…the waver to the voice that no one else would catch and he sighed. After today it was to be expected…he had been reluctant to take his partner along as they flushed out the last remnants of his old gang, but he had needed the firepower and McCree had insisted, determined to put his past behind him once and for all. It would have been fine to, if McCree hadn’t been forced to kill his own mentor when Gabriel’s attention had wavered for a moment, almost costing him his life and them the mission and he didn’t think he had ever seen that mix of pain, relief and anger in the honey-brown eyes as he had in that moment.

      When they landed, he let the other agents leave, they could debrief later, instead he stood and waited, watching as McCree seemed to shrink in on himself as he buried his head in his hands. It was then that Gabriel went to him, settling into the seat next to him and tugging him into a one-armed hug, unsurprised when McCree turned and hid his face against him, not needing the dampness soaking into his shoulder to tell him that McCree was crying.


	48. McReyes + Beach

    McCree glanced back up the beach, smiling at the sight of Gabriel sprawled out on their blanket, book lying abandoned on his chest and dead to the world. He had been surprised when the older man had agreed to the holiday, they both had more than enough holiday accrued, but prying Gabriel away from work was nearly as difficult as hiding an injury from Angela and Ana…nearly impossible. Then again things at work were strained, Blackwatch and Overwatch diverging more and more and he had lost count of the number of arguments he had witness between Gabriel and Morrison, arguments that seemed to get more heated every time they met. He feared what would happen when they really hit boiling point, had even thought about leaving more than once and maybe that was why Gabriel had agreed to this break, in the hopes of staving off an explosion. Shaking his head, he growled at himself, forcing all thoughts of work and tensions to the back of his mind…they were on holiday and he would be damned if he wasted this time, a grin crossing his face as he set off across the sand, certain that Gabriel wouldn’t mind a hug even if he was currently dripping wet from his dip in the sea.


	49. McCree x Genji x Gabe + Cuddle

     It was McCree who woke first, or rather was dragged into consciousness by an elbow, reinforced with armour slamming into his side and driving the breath out of him. His first instinct had been to reach for his gun, but he had barely begun to reach out before the soft whimpers from the middle of the bed caught his attention and he froze, twisting his head to see Genji tossing and turning, his face left exposed at night twisted in terror. Growling under his breath, cursing the Shimadas to hell and back McCree rolled over so that he could wrap his arms around Genji, pulling him close, one hand moving to play with green hair.

“Gabe,” he called softly over Genji’s head, reluctant to disturb the older man, but when these nightmares hit Genji needed both of them…and the last time they had failed to wake Gabriel they had been given the cold shoulder for days. A sleepy groan answered him, but then there were warm arms snaking around Genji from the other side, brushing against his and Gabriel lifted his head just enough to peer at him with bleary eyes, nodding briefly before ducking his head towards Genji’s ear.

“Genji, we’re here…you’re safe and you’re with us.”


	50. McReyes + Light

“Don’t…” McCree started slightly as Gabriel’s hand gripped his wrist, stopping him as he reached out to turn the light off and he froze, frowning as he realised that it was fear that he had heard in the harsh voice and that he could see an echo of it in the crimson eyes before they skittered away from his gaze. Obediently he lowered his hand, rolling over so that he was facing his partner, eyes slowly tracing the burns and scars marring Gabriel’s skin, not speaking, waiting for the older man to explain. It took a while and McCree was slowly drifting towards sleep, when Gabriel finally sighed, smoke rising from the corner of his mouth and betraying his agitation. “I don’t like the dark, it reminds me of Zurich…of being trapped under the rubble.” McCree shuddered, just the thought of it was enough to set him on edge and he hadn’t been the one to live through it and so he forced the reaction back, easing himself closer so that he could tug Gabriel into a hug.

“Then we’ll leave the light on,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to dark hair, noticing the silver strands that were starting to appear and kissing them for good measure, feeling Gabriel leaning into him when he said nothing more about his need for light.


	51. McCree + Pet

    McCree gritted his teeth as he stalked into the practice range, desperately trying to curb his anger, knowing that he could practice like this. But damn was it hard…he knew that he was at the bottom of the heap here, not much difference from being with the gang, but at least there he had been someone even if he was just another gun. Here, the older agents looked at him with suspicion and doubt and worst disgust, he had heard them, whispering amongst themselves…heard them calling him a wild dog that would bite the hand that fed it as soon as it got chance, whispers that he was little more than a pet, a passing interest for the people had given him this opportunity. It hurt because he feared that they were right, feared that one day he would find himself either alone again or locked up, terrified that the slightest mistake would prove them all right…but he didn’t let it show, couldn’t or rather wouldn’t let them have that satisfaction and so he took a deep breath, drawing his weapon and checking it a practiced ease that no one his age should have before taking aim…breathing settling as he lost himself in the familiar action, he would show them that he wasn’t just a pet.


	52. Gabe and Jesse + Hug

     Gabriel ignored the other agents, his attention focused on the huddled figure of one Jesse McCree, sharp eyes raking over the kid and searching for any sign of serious injury…he’d learnt to check after the idiot had nearly bled out on them a few months ago, too afraid of being a bother to tell them that he was hurt. There were plenty of nicks in his clothes and some colourful bruises appearing along his arm, but he seemed fine, physically at least, Gabriel amended as he took in the bowed shoulders and the tremors that McCree couldn’t quite hide. With time, he would get better at it, which was not necessarily a good thing, but now he was a kid…a kid that had just witnessed his first failed mission, a mission that had left many civilians and agents dead and it was clear that he was hurting. Perhaps he was too soft on the kid, but that was the thing…he was a kid, for all that he had been forced to grown up fast, he was still a kid and so Gabriel ignored what the others would think and moved across to McCree.

“Come here,” his voice was gruff, normally enough to send men running, but it drew McCree’s attention and their gazes met for a moment…his soft, understanding and McCree’s filling with tears before the teen launched himself forward with a sob, letting Gabriel draw him into a hug without a fight.


	53. McReyes + Tattoo

“Did you ever think of getting rid of it?” Gabriel asked, fingers gentle as he traced the outline of the deadlock tattoo that McCree sported and the younger man tensed for a moment, lifting his head so that he could meet Gabriel’s gaze, searching for any sign of disgust or recrimination. He found none, only curiosity and he sighed, settling onto his back and turning his gaze to the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts, vaguely following the sensation of Gabriel’s fingers.

“Once upon a time,” he admitted softly, remembering those early days in Blackwatch, when everything about him had been greeted with distrust…he had wanted to get rid of it then, wanted to fit in and prove himself. “But…I couldn’t. I’m not sad that I left that life behind, but…”

“It’s part of you,” Gabriel murmured, understanding and McCree nodded, slowly lifting his hand to catch the one tracing the tattoo…it was part of him, a reminder of what he had done and what he had endured and how far he had come since.


	54. McCree & Reyes + Family

Reyes ignored the curious looks and surprised expressions as he stormed through the base towards the infirmary, not caring that the harsh exterior he had adopted since being given command of Blackwatch had cracked with the news that had just come in.

“McCree?” His voice sharp and unnecessarily loud as he burst into the infirmary, coming up short as he took in the tableau in front of him, dark eyes widening as he took in the bloodied form of the Cowboy on the bed and more importantly the space where McCree’s left hand should’ve been. “Angela…”

“If you want me to save him, then get out,” the doctor barely spared a glance in his direction and he bristled at the brusque dismissal, before moving forward as he spotted brown eyes drifting open and turning dazedly towards him, ignoring Angela’s irritated glare as he moved to McCree’s bedside, reaching out to take the Cowboy’s intact hand.

“I’m not going anywhere…I’m his family,” he said evenly, glancing at Angela as he felt the younger man’s fingers curling weakly around his, managing what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he looked at the dazed McCree. “I’m not going anywhere…”

_It’s a promise…_


	55. McCree & Reyes + Lost

Gabriel was officially a few seconds away from freaking out completely as he stared through the window at the interrogation room, closing his eyes for a moment in the hopes that the image in front of him would disappear, but when he reopened them everything was still the same…there was still a goddam kid sitting in the other room…a kid. The reports he was holding crumpled in his clenched fists, as he studied the kid, taking in the evidence of the scuffle it had taken to capture him and the lost expression on the tanned face as the teen eyed the door nervously. _This can’t be happening…_ He thought as he turned his attention to the papers in his hands, scanning the report of his capture…dark eyes narrowing as he saw that the teen had been involved in everything the Deadlock gang had done, and he growled at the thought of the teen… _Jesse McCree…_ being stuck in that life, or being thrown into jail for goodness knows how many years. He screwed the reports into a tight ball and dropped them on the floor as he headed towards the door to the interrogation room with a determined expression…there was no way he was going to let a kid take that path, which meant that he was going to have to help him find a new path and fast.


	56. McCree & Reyes + Saved

    Gabriel groaned as his vision slowly began to clear, the grey fog that had descended on his thoughts the moment he had been flung backwards into the wall beginning to dissipate, letting the pain he had been avoiding so far seep in.

“Easy boss…” The sudden voice made him jump, and he cursed himself for not being more alert even as he coaxed his eyes open to find a worried looking McCree crouched in front of him, the Cowboy’s serape draped across him like a blanket. “Looks like you took one hell of a blow to the head…”

“McCree…?”

“In the flesh,” the younger man quipped, concern showing through the attempt at humour and Gabriel sighed…he must be getting long in the tooth if he was earning that kind of attention from the Cowboy, and he hastily straightened and tried to set his expression back into its usual mask.

“What happened with the mission?”

“Seriously,” McCree demanded, and there was a flicker of real irritation as he pulled back. “You can’t take a moment to appreciate that I saved your ass?”


	57. McCree + Reyes + Reunited

     McCree hissed as he ducked around a corner, reaching up to grasp at his upper arm where he had just been winged, cursing the assassin who had burst in on their current mission causing them all to scatter in opposite directions. Whoever the man was, he was good and his shotguns had one hell of a punch…a thought that made his stomach clench unpleasantly, because just for a moment it had felt like he was back in Blackwatch and training with Reyes. _Stop dwelling on the past,_ he told himself sternly as he detected movement, and swallowing back his pain he flung himself out from his hiding place, gun ready to fire, only to find a foot flying towards him and he couldn’t stop his gun from flying from his fingers. It was followed by a strong jab to his jaw that sent him stumbling backwards with a grunt…it was a move that he knew more intimately than he cared to admit, and he couldn’t keep the painful hope out of his voice as he steadied himself and took a cautious step towards the black-robed figure.

“Boss…?”


	58. McCree & Reyes  + Omega

    Reyes had realised what was going on the moment he saw the wildness in McCree’s eyes, his suspicions confirmed by the scent that flooded the air a moment later and he took a half step back as he fought to get himself under control, refusing to bow to that scent. Once he was sure he was in control he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around the younger man and sighing as he felt the tremors wracking him.

“Let’s get you back to your room,” he ordered soothingly, making sure to keep his tone neutral without the faintest hint of his alpha although McCree still tensed, but after a moment he received a small nod of agreement and he carefully began to guide him back along the corridor…praying that they wouldn’t meet anyone else on the way, as he knew that an omega’s scent would throw most people into a complete frenzy and that was the last thing the younger man needed.

   For once luck was on their side and he managed to get McCree back to his room, swatting away reaching fingers when the younger man began to surrender to his heat, hastily getting him settled on the bed with the promise to return with suppressants and a hot water bottle for the ache that he knew would be permeating the Cowboy’s stomach.  Outside he changed the display that normally just held the occupants name to show that the room was out of bounds, already knowing that he would still stand guard, mentally reviewing what paperwork he could bring down with him when he returned as he hurried off down the corridor.


	59. McCree & Reyes + Saviour

    McCree’s expression was dark, almost feral as he stared down at the Overwatch agent he had just dropped to the ground with a solid punch to the face, his lips drawn back in a snarl as he glanced around at the others who had gathered around.

“Does anyone else have anything to say?” He demanded, well aware that he was going to get it in the neck later…there was no way Reyes wouldn’t hear about this little altercation, the older man always seemed to have eyes and ears in the worse places, especially when it came to him. Still there was no way he could have say back and listened to the agent badmouthing Blackwatch, and more specifically their leader without doing something, even if he could have handled it a little better. “You have no idea what kind of man he is…so keep your mouth shut,” he added fiercely, hand resting on his gun in warning before he turned away with a scowl, determined to get away without getting into more trouble. _He’s a saviour not a monster…he’s my saviour…_


	60. McCree & Reyes  + Food

    McCree was staring morosely down at his dinner, the food long since mushed beyond recognition as he moved it from one side of the plate to the other…it had been a bad day, it always was when they encountered his old gang…when they recognised him, and today had been worse because there had been no surrender and he knew that more than one man had fallen to his bullet. He jolted when there was a clatter as another plate of food was sat down in front of him, the one of mush being pushed to the side, and he looked up to find Reyes staring down at him with a knowing expression.

“Eat,” the older man ordered as he settled on the opposite side of the table with his own plate of food, arching an eyebrow when McCree opened his mouth to argue and the younger man snapped it shut with a sigh, before turning to glare down at the food. “Starving yourself isn’t going to change anything…and I would rather not use one of my best agents.”

“Reyes…” McCree began, trailing off as Reyes glanced pointedly at his plate, and after a moment he picked up his fork and slowly began to eat.


	61. McCree & Reyes + Redemption

McCree winced as Reyes stalked into the infirmary, able to tell from his walk that he was seriously pissed off even before he got a look at the dark expression on his boss’s face, and he hunkered down and tried to adopt an apologetic expression.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Apparently his expression wasn’t going to be enough to get him off the hook this time, and McCree groaned as he sat up straighter, unable to hide the pain that flickered across his face as the movement grated on his broken ribs.

“Boss…”

“I get that you want to redeem yourself,” Reyes voice and expression had softened a little at the sight of his pain, but there was still anger glittering in the dark eyes as he crossed the distance between them, reaching out to rest a surprisingly gentle hand on McCree’s shoulder. “But nearly getting yourself killed because you threw yourself headfirst into a mission without listening to the briefing…that isn’t the answer, and if you pull a stunt like that again…you’re out of Blackwatch. Is that understood?” McCree could only gape at him for a moment, before he realised the older man really wasn’t kidding and that he was waiting for an answer.

“Understood…Boss…”


	62. McCree & Reyes + Crush

 “That man saved my life,” McCree growled, digging his gun into the other agent’s chest, his southern drawl sharper than anyone had heard it in a long time. It had been a long time calling, the younger man had been on the end of too many jokes and taunts recently…his closeness with Commander Reyes putting him under the spotlight, but eventually it had been someone insinuating that he had a crush on the older man that had made him spring into action. If anyone had any doubts about his worth as an agent, that had been crushed with the speed at which he had managed to pin the other man against the wall, his gun completely steady despite his obvious anger. “I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but that kind of thing tends to make a person loyal…and willing to do anything to pay back a debt like that.”


	63. McCree & Reyes + Rejection

     He knew that it was foolish, that there was a whole list of things that he didn’t know about Overwatch or Blackwatch because he wasn’t high enough in the pecking order…that had never bothered him, but having Reyes practically kick him out of the office just because he had asked what the hell was going with the sudden surge in missions that didn’t seem to be in the organisations best interest was something new…and to McCree it felt like a rejection. From the moment he had been recruited he had stuck by Reyes, defending him from rumours and generally doing everything in his power to make up for the fact that the older man had given him a chance…but lately it had felt like that only meant something to him, and he growled under his breath. Perhaps now was the time to get out of here, because there had been something dark in Reyes eyes earlier…something that he had never seen before, and for the first time he felt afraid of the older man. Something was going to happen…something that he was fairly sure he wasn’t going to want to be a part of, even if Reyes was involved… _but can I really walk away?_


	64. Jesse McCree + Abused

    McCree steadfastly ignored his commanding officer, only speaking when he had to, to answer Dr. Ziegler’s questions as she worked to patch him up…biting back any sounds of pain, and trying not to glance at his reflection in the cubicle wall. He already knew that he was a mess, his entire body a throbbing mass of pain…and he had caught a glimpse of the blood he’d left behind on the floor when Reyes had dragged him out of the storeroom he had taken refuge in, and he knew that his silence would only protect him for so long. Still he didn’t want to talk about it…didn’t want to admit to the fact that even after months of working his ass off in Blackwatch, proving himself, trying to be worthy of the chance that Reyes had given him…he still wasn’t accepted by the majority of the agents. Instead his efforts were rewarded with abuse, tricks to get him into trouble with his superiors...sideways blows when they thought no one was looking…and now this. There was a stinging sensation in his eyes but he blinked it back, still not looking at Reyes although he sensed the older man moving closer…he didn’t want or need pity, he had survived worse…he just wished that he didn’t need to endure this here.


	65. Jesse McCree + Educated

    McCree was used to being looked down upon, he had been fairly low in the pecking order of the Deadlock gang despite the amount of time he had spent for them…and he hadn’t really expected that to change when he joined Blackwatch. No, what bothered him was the surprise that he was greeted with when he offered an insight or plan that no one else had thought of…the suspicious looks…and the whispers that would follow. He knew that he wasn’t as educated as the rest of them, school had never been a high priority even before he had fallen in with the wrong crowd and after that he had just given up on education…but it didn’t mean that he was stupid. He had survived this long because he used his head, because he could adapt to the circumstance around him and see gaps to be exploited, but apparently, the other agents hadn’t realised that. He might have said something, spoken out against it and wound up in a world of trouble, but there was always at least one pair of approving eyes…a small nod amongst the naysayers…and it was the simple fact that one person believed in him, that they were willing to give him a chance that allowed him to withstand it, and to keep speaking up.


	66. McGenji + Horse

“She’s not going to bite you,” McCree commented with a laugh, watching as Genji froze yet again as the mare he was approaching swung her head round to stare at him. It had been Genji’s idea to come with him, determined to learn more about ‘being a cowboy’ was how he’d phrased it, and McCree had been all too happy agree…it had been far too long since he’d had the chance to go riding, and too long since the pair of them had, had time to themselves. However, it transpired that whilst Genji liked the ideas of horses, he was quite nervous about them…and less than impressed when McCree had pointed out that he was covered in armour so he would be fine no matter happened.

“She is staring at me,” Genji pointed out quietly, shifting under the horse’s gaze.   “Jesse, I…” Gently McCree nudged him forward, earning a startled squawk from Genji, which trailed off at the mare whickered softly before reaching out, nudging him in a clear demand for attention and stiffened for a moment before giving into the requests, fingers slowly moving to pet her. “Oh…”


	67. McGenji + Blind

McCree faltered when he realised that he could no longer feel Genji’s fingers on his wrist, swallowing thickly as the darkness seemed to twine itself around him tighter than before, breath catching in his throat as panic threatened to engulf him. Angela had reassured him that this was only temporary, his eyes finally protesting his overuse of Dead-eye, but it didn’t make the current darkness any easier to endure and he was about to shout for Genji, panic bubbling up, when there was a feathery touch against his wrist again which made him jolt violently.

“G-Genji?”

“Sorry,” Genji murmured, leaning in and kissing his cheek in apology. “Junkrat’s been cluttering up the corridor again, I was just clearing a path.”

“Just…don’t leave me,” he hated how small he sounded, how frightened, but the panic was slow to fade and he was relieved when Genji took a tighter hold of his wrist.

“Of course.”


	68. McGenji + Forehead Kisses

“But…” Genji protested weakly, hands covering his mask even though he knew that the older man wouldn’t touch it if he truly said no…and part of him wanted to say no and mean it, but another part wanted to say yes…to test just how accepting he really was.  

“You’re not going to scare me away,” McCree admonished softly, waiting patiently and finally Genji slowly lowered his hands and gave a tiny nod of assent, the Cowboy smiled at the show of trust and he deliberately kept his movements slow in case the ninja changed his mind as he reached up and carefully began to remove the mask. It wasn’t the first time he had seen what lay under the mask, so he didn’t even blink, smiling reassuringly when he felt Genji tensing again and he lowered his hand, tracing the Ninja’s armour and giving him time to relax once more.

“Jesse…”

     It was permission…a warning…and a plea all in one, and McCree’s expression softened as he finally lent in, holding the other’s gaze before gently pressing a kiss the pale, scarred skin. Genji tensed again at the first kiss, but he didn’t pull back and McCree took that as encouragement, gently kissing each scar in turn before pulling back with a soft murmur.

“Beautiful…”


	69. McCree + Omega

      McCree sighed with relief as he slammed the doors to his room shut, carefully locking it behind him to be on the safe side and taking a step towards the bed, before he crumpled with a pained gasp. He had known that it was risky to go on a mission so close to his heat, even when he was using suppressants, he just hadn’t expected it to overrun by nearly a week…or for the alpha to get so close as to realise his nature, the suppressants only good at a distance of three foot or more…it had been a harder fight than it should have been, because his opponent hadn’t been afraid to use alpha commands against him and it had taken everything he had to push through it. Only sheer stubbornness had let him win…but the effort had brought his heat on early, and he was fairly sure his entire team now knew what he was…a thought that made his eyes sting as he blinked back tears of frustration…he hadn’t wanted them to know, he didn’t want them to treat him differently just because nature had screwed up. He had spent years mastering the art of pretending to be an alpha, to the point where he had practically convinced himself, but now it was being stripped away from him…burnt away by the heat washing over him….and he groaned, forcing himself to crawl forward and heave himself up onto the bed, collapsing face down in the pillows. Everything was a mess, but all he could do was ride this out and then see what the damage was…and pray that people wouldn’t judge his worth by his nature.


	70. McCree + Family

     McCree snarled under his breath as he hastily wrapped a scrap of cloth around the bullet wound on his arm, hissing in pain as he tied it off, before his head snapped up at a sound in the distance. The mission had been a bust from the start and he had every intention of reaming out Winston and Athena…if you could yell at a computer…because this time the intel had been so far off base that it was like they had been given a novel to work off. It was usual for some things to be off, their information network was nothing like it had been…and he knew that and accepted it, but this was different, because this time they hadn’t been able to work around it…the room behind him was filled with his teammate, all of them wounded, several of them in desperate need of Mercy and hospital, with no way of getting to it…and Hana…he had no idea where she was, and at the moment he was the only one still able to move freely, which meant that he had to stay put. He had to protect the others…perhaps at the cost of Hana…and he hated it, because they had all become his family at some point, and the thought of having to make a choice like that left a bitter taste in his mouth.


	71. McCree + Safety

    McCree’s entire world had narrowed down to pain. His left arm was on fire from where his prosthetic had been torn away, damaging the stump in the process…his side felt as though someone had kicked him repeatedly…his head was throbbing, blood trickling from the deep gash on his forehead, blurring his already darkening vision. _It hurts…_ Part of him just wanted to curl up, to just lie there and let the darkness wash over him, but there was a small stubborn flame that kept him moving, crawling forwards towards the spot they had chosen as their rendezvous point…trusting that the others would be there…that they would help him…that they would get him home. There had been a time when he hadn’t had that belief to cling to, when he had been alone and for a moment he faltered…memories of lonely nights patching himself up bringing him to a halt…Then there was a flurry of movement…of sound…up ahead and he managed to force his eyes open once more, his vision blurring, but there were warm hands on his shoulders and reassuring words in his ears and he let himself lean into the gentle touch, the pain fading along with his consciousness, leaving him as one last thought slipped through. _I’m safe now…I’m going home…_


	72. Jesse McCree + Caged

     He had already marked off the space of the interrogation room, twelve steps across, eight wide…a tiny room, barely large enough to house a table and two chairs and nothing more. He had only been in here half an hour, or at least he thought it was only that long, there was no clock…no way to measure how long it had been since he had been caught, since he had been moved from his cell to this room that might as well have been a cell…and it was already getting to him. He already felt vulnerable, separated from the rest of the gang and unarmed, but that was a feeling that he could bear…that he could adapt to, as it wasn’t the first time that had happened. No, it was the feeling of being caged, of being watched and judged that weighed on him, a chill spreading through him and making him pace, unable to summon even the slightest hint of calm. He knew that he was in trouble, that there was no way this situation was going to end well for him…but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care about that, he just wanted more space, more room to breathe.


	73. Sombra & McCree + Siblings

“Are you sure you two aren’t going out?”

“No!” Sombra and McCree share an equally disgusted look, before glaring at one another and only a quick step back saves McCree from a painful encounter with her elbow, hurriedly increasing the distance between them when her eyes narrow. Thankfully she seemed more interested in hurriedly turning back to Gabriel who is watching them with amusement, eyebrow arched, and McCree growls as he catches the teasing glint in the dark eyes…he’s taunting them…and Sombra is falling for it hook, line and sinker as she swells up, unable to look intimidating compared to Gabe’s height, and looking more like an angry kitten as she swells up. “As if I would ever go out with a guy like…. that!” She points at McCree who glances down at himself, knowing full well that it’s a dig at his obsession with western themed clothes, something he’s immune to by now, and he shoots her a lazy grin.

“Love you too sis…”


	74. Sombra & McCree + Salsa

“This was not what I had in mind when I said I owed you one,” McCree grumbles, feeling incredibly exposed without his hat and usual outfit, highly aware of the eyes that are following then…drawn by Sombra’s flamboyant purple dress, and her wicked sounding chuckle as she pulls him along.

“I know.” She looks entirely too happy with the situation, eyes glittering wickedly as she bats her eyelashes at him…the effort ruined by the smirk she’s wearing.  “But you promised that you would do whatever I asked.” Yeah, in retrospect that hadn’t been one of his brightest ideas, especially after what she had made him do in the past…but then again, she had saved his neck. _But still…_

“Why Salsa?”

“Because I get to see you squirm…and it’s been years since you last took me dancing.”


	75. Sombra & McCree + Undercover

     McCree has always hated undercover work with a passion, it reminds him too much of his time in the Deadlock gang, always having to hide who he was and whose side he was on when he ventured away from them. He was also terrible at it, standing out like a sore thumb wherever he went because he point blank refused to change the way he dressed just on the off chance that they might…might…gain some valuable information. Which was why he was currently sat at the bar, downing shot after shot and deliberately drawing attention in his direction as he slipped closer and closer to the edge of being properly drunk, at least on the outside…sharp eyes making out the slight ripple in the air that marks Sombra’s progress across the room, rolling his eyes when he catches her playfully tweaking a punter’s hat before slipping upstairs and out of sight. He hates undercover work, but it’s become a little more bearable now that they’re working together and he knows that he’s got the better end of the deal as he downs another drink, settling in to wait to see whatever information or trouble she can dig up…privately hoping that it’s the latter.


	76. Sombra & McCree + Teamwork

    McCree cursed as he was forced to duck back down behind the pallets he had taken refuge behind, eyes narrowing as the wood splinters under a bullet that had come far too close for comfort and he wonders just what kind of technology the sniper is using, because their aim could put Widowmaker’s to shame and that’s not a good thing when it’s aimed at him.

“Need a hand?” The sudden voice over the communicator makes him jump, and he must have made a noise of some sort because Sombra is laughing at him. Before he has a chance to retort the sniper’s shots taper off, and he can hear cursing from up above and the sound of someone fighting with their gun and he smirks, recognising the sounds.

“That’ll do nicely,” he replies, retort completely forgotten as he steps out from behind his shelter, peacemaker already and the familiar burn building behind his eyes. It might be overkill, but he has no intention of wasting this opportunity or Sombra’s efforts, barely waiting for the familiar red to fill his vision before firing…Sombra’s whoop telling him that he got the target before he can check, not that it had been in doubt.


	77. McHog + Cuddling

      McCree didn’t notice the first shiver that worked its way through him, too focused on watching the narrow gap that led through to their current hiding place, fingers turning white from the grip he had on his weapon. _This was bad._ It was only when the shivers had become a constant feature that he realised that he might be in trouble, his serape lost somewhere in the mad scramble to get out of sight and his armour was built for durability rather than warmth. He cursed under his breath, focus torn between watching the approach and the cold that was now settling into his bones, and he missed the rustling behind him and the soft, concerned noise as Roadhog noticed what was happening. In fact he only remembered that he wasn’t alone when the other man pressed up against his back, ignoring his weak protests as he gathered him close, curling around him although he was careful to make sure that McCree could still shoot if needed and whilst McCree tried to protest, he couldn’t help but cuddle back into the warmth with a relieved sigh.


	78. McHanzo + Stranger

    Hanzo made no effort to hide his relief or eagerness as he stepped into the hospital room, at last, relieved that the nurses had come to get him before he could give in to the temptation to pull a McCree and just storm in regardless. A wry smile twisted his lips as he recalled all the times his partner had nearly got himself banned from the hospital because of that, although it disappeared instantly as he finally laid eyes on his partner for the first time since he’d been admitted. He’d known it had been bad when he’d lugged the idiot here, but seeing the heavily bandaged torso and more worryingly the bandage nestled amongst messy brown hair made it seem worse, not helped by how pale McCree was or how sluggishly his eyes focused on Hanzo.

“You look terrible,” he informed his partner softly, affection clear in his voice as he moved across to the bed, only to come up short as he realised there was no trace of the usual cheeky grin that would meet that comment, instead he was met with narrowed eyes, and it was only when McCree spoke that he realised just how bad things were.

“Who the hell are you?”


	79. McHanzo + Family

He had grown accustomed to taking care of himself when he was ill and injured, used to waking up alone and knowing that there was no one coming to see him. That was why when he drifted awake in the hospital room after a job gone badly awry, immediately aware of another presence in the room, he had no idea how to react. His original thought was that it was an enemy, and he tensed in readiness to defend himself, only to freeze as warm laughter rang out, and he opened his eyes as a calloused hand grasped his, blinking as McCree’s face swam into view.

“McCree? Why are you here…?”

     A sigh met his questions and uncertain tone, and he blinked in confusion unable to think what he could have said to warrant that response, and he was surprised by the unusually stern look his partner shot at him, and the hint of hurt in the cowboy’s voice.

“How many times am I going to have to remind you that we’re family now, darling? And that’s what family does….”


	80. McHanzo + Partner

    Hanzo was down blood trickling from wounds on his shoulder and side from where he hadn’t been quick enough to dodge, and he groaned softly as he dragged himself behind a corner, grimacing at the trail he was leaving. He couldn’t have left a better signpost as to where he had gone, and he knew that it wouldn’t take long for his opponents to track him down, and with his bow arm out of action, there wasn’t going to be much he could do about it. It was his own fault, he’d rushed ahead leaving his teammates behind, still feeling that he had to prove himself to them and now it looked like the only thing he had proved was that he couldn’t fight alone. Hearing footsteps, he bowed his head in defeat, realising that he wasn’t going to get out of this and he was unprepared for the rush of relief…and hope that engulfed him when a familiar voice drawled from above him.

“Up you get partner…”


	81. McHanzo + Wild West

McCree came to an abrupt halt as he burst into Hanzo’s room, his eyes flicking between his partner who was sat rigidly in the middle of the bed with an oddly guilty expression on his face and the rarely used television in the corner, letting out a relieved sigh when he realised that the crack of gunfire that had sent him dashing in here was just coming from the movie that was playing. A movie that he recognised he realised a moment later and a small grin tugged at his lips, growing a moment later as he noted the stack of films on the bedside table, every one of them a western. 

“Research?” He asked knowingly, knowing that his partner had been getting more and more frustrated at being unable to understand the cultural differences between them, and for a moment his grin softened, touched that Hanzo who deplored wasting time watching television would take the time to try to improve their relationship. Still, it was good teasing material, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass him by, stalking towards the bed. “Darling if you want to know about the Wild West,” he knelt on the edge of the bed and nudged the other man back against the headboard, kissing him softly before adding with a wink. “You just need to ask me.”


	82. McHanzo + Cuisine

     McCree came to an abrupt halt as he burst into Hanzo’s room, his eyes flicking between his partner who was sat rigidly in the middle of the bed with an oddly guilty expression on his face and the rarely used television in the corner, letting out a relieved sigh when he realised that the crack of gunfire that had sent him dashing in here was just coming from the movie that was playing. A movie that he recognised he realised a moment later and a small grin tugged at his lips, growing a moment later as he noted the stack of films on the bedside table, every one of them a western.

“Research?” He asked knowingly, knowing that his partner had been getting more and more frustrated at being unable to understand the cultural differences between them, and for a moment his grin softened, touched that Hanzo who deplored wasting time watching television would take the time to try to improve their relationship. Still, it was good teasing material, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass him by, stalking towards the bed. “Darling if you want to know about the Wild West,” he knelt on the edge of the bed and nudged the other man back against the headboard, kissing him softly before adding with a wink. “You just need to ask me.”


	83. McHanzo + Phantom Limbs

Hanzo woke when he felt the body he was pressed against stirring restlessly, and he had just managed to coax his eyes open when he heard McCree groaning softly. It was a noise he had become intimately familiar with over the last few months, and he sighed, wincing in sympathy as he heard another groan, and then he was moving, rolling over until he was plastered against the cowboy’s back. He didn’t speak, words weren’t going to help here, he knew that from his own painful experience and instead he reached around McCree and with a gentleness that he would only ever show this man he began to rub at McCree’s arm just above where metal and skin met. He kept the movements firm but light, feeling the tension in his partner’s arm and the way metallic fingers were clenching and unclenching, another low groan escaping before the cowboy could hold it back. Realising that it wasn’t enough Hanzo pressed closer, still quiet, and began to press small kisses along the bare shoulder, following the path up to McCree’s neck; nothing heated, just gentle, teasing kisses meant to distract him from the limb that was no longer there.


	84. McHanzo + Smell

There had been a time when Hanzo had been convinced that he would never be able to get used to the smell of cigar smoke, gunpowder and cologne that seemed to accompany his partner…and later after they had moved past colleagues, to friends and then lovers it followed him too…everywhere that they went, seeping into the very fabric of their life.  It was nothing like the smells he had grown up with or his own light cologne, it was strange and foreign, and he thought that if there were something he could change about the cowboy, it would be that. It was nearly a year after they had become lovers, on a lonely mission in the middle of nowhere when he was curled on his tiny bunk, slowly drifting to sleep and trying not to think about how much he missed the warmth of McCree beside him when that same annoying scent washed over him. It took him a moment to realise that it was too strong to be his imagination, and his eyes flew open to find McCree looming over him with a grin, he didn’t care why he was there when he was supposed to be on the far side of the country, and he didn’t give his partner time to speak, lunging up off the bed and wrapping his arms around the cowboy and burying his nose against him and letting the scent wash over him.

“Don’t ever change…” He whispered.


	85. McHanzo + Boots

McCree knew that his boots had been here the night before, he could distinctly remember taking them off even if he couldn’t remember where he had thrown them in his eagerness to get to bed, but now there was no sign of them, and he was already running late.

“Hanzo! Have you seen my boots?” He shouted, turning at the sound of footsteps behind and he turned only to find his mouth going dry as he discovered his partner standing there wearing the missing boots, one of McCree’s shirts hanging loose and open…and nothing else. “B-Boots,” he managed to get out, rather intelligibly, trying and failing not to ogle the other man, although in his defence it was rare for the more prudish man to act like this. Hanzo didn’t seem to mind though if the smirk was anything to go by as he arched an eyebrow at McCree, before lifting one booted foot in invitation and McCree groaned as he realised that he really was going to be late now. Although as he knelt in front of his partner, pressing soft kisses to his knee as he fumbled with the boots, he decided that he really didn’t care.


	86. McHanzo + Sideburns

 

There was something wrong, that was the first thought that hit McCree that morning when he woke up, and he sat up at once, one hand reaching out for his gun even as he glanced at the other side of the bed only to find that there was no sign of his partner. That was normal, Hanzo was never one for lazing around in bed, and yet the feeling of wrongness persisted, and he glanced around the room, searching for any sign of what could be causing the feeling. Nothing seemed out of place though and slowly he released his hold on his weapon and shoved the covers away, slipping off the bed and heading for the door to check on his partner, just to make sure…then he walked past the mirror and froze, his mouth dropping open as he turned to look properly at his reflection. His sideburns…his beautiful sideburns were gone, leaving clean-shaven skin beneath and for a moment his mouth worked soundlessly, well aware of who was responsible for this…and that really he had deserved it for winding his partner up so much over the last few days…but still _HIS SIDEBURNS!_

“HANZO!”


	87. McHanzo + Facial

It wasn’t until he met Hanzo that McCree realised just how dependent he was on facial expressions to understand people, because when he looked at the other man, it was like looking into a still pool of water, with no way of telling how deep it was or what was going on beneath the surface. At first, it was disconcerting, and he found himself feeling oddly adrift around Hanzo, and it was tempting to pull away and stay around people that he could understand…until the day he saw the pain in the deep brown eyes, it was only a brief flicker, a glimpse at the storm beneath the calm surface. He wasn’t sure why, but that one glimpse was enough and he found himself entranced, wanting to know what else was hidden beneath that mask and so he watched. It was a challenge, Hanzo was a private man, and it was a case of being in the right place at the right time to catch the little flickers of emotion, and it took him over a year to learn the little ins and outs, the nuances of those flickers. However, it was all worth it the day he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the other man, having seen the pain that no one else could see, and feeling warms arms tentatively coming up to return the hug he knew that he had passed his challenge…and that he had no intention of stopping.


	88. McHanzo + Heat

    Hanzo had been cold since the moment he thought that he had killed his brother, no matter where he went or what he did it seemed as though he could never warm himself up, and over time he had come to accept that as another part of the price he had to pay. However, with Overwatch came the first flickers of heat against his skin, never enough to thaw him completely, but enough to give him hope that maybe one day the cold would retreat. He was right…he had just never expected the warmth to come from the insufferable cowboy who strolled into his life one day, carving a space at his side even when Hanzo did everything in his power to stop him, and clearly having no intention to leave. It wasn’t a quick process, the cold ran too deep for that, but gradually day by day he found himself thawing…McCree’s warmth reaching him in a way no one else’s had, and years later when he curled up against the other man and felt nothing but the other’s warmth, he realised that his cold had lost long ago.


	89. McHanzo + Misty Morning

Hanzo sighed as he stared out of the window, the world outside obscured by mist, giving everything an eerie appearance as though it wasn’t quite there, and as always he felt memories beginning to stir. It always happened when the weather was like this, it was as though with the world around him blurred, his memories were given fresh clarity…that and the fact that Hanamura had been under a rare mist that fateful day, another detail that he had never been able to erase from his mind.

“Stop thinking,” a gruff voice made him jump, and he turned to find himself being pulled into a warm embrace and he sighed softly as he buried his face against a familiar chest, McCree’s scent washing over him and driving back the memories. That was one thing that had changed, these misty mornings were rarely spent alone anymore, and here in the safety of the cowboy’s arms, he had a sanctuary against those memories.


	90. McHanzo + Mourning at Graves

    McCree’s steps were slow and heavy as he followed the path through the cemetery, for once not paying any mind to those graves that belonged to those he had lost in the past, the grief for their deaths a faded memory now and not enough to break through the pain of the newest loss. It still felt wrong to be coming here to see him, like an image from a nightmare that wouldn’t quite leave him alone…but he knew that it wasn’t a dream, he had the empty house and cold bed to prove it, and the silence where a soft voice should be and his steps faltered for a minute. _Hanzo…_ It was a pain that hadn’t lessened once in the months since the other man had died, and he blinked to fight back the sudden stinging in his eyes as he forced himself to move forward once more.

“Hanzo…” His voice was little more than a broken croak as he reached his goal, and this time he had to close his eyes to hold back the tears as he stopped before the simple stone that marked his lover’s grave, his knees giving way beneath him and he slumped heavily next to the marker. He tried to get his voice to work again, to greet the ghost of his lover, but the words were trapped, and his hands curled into fists against the ground as he finally lost his fight against his tears. _I miss you…_


	91. McHanzo + Lost

    _They were lost,_ McCree had been desperately trying to deny it for the last few minutes even as he felt the knowing gaze burning into his back. Part of him was tempted to keep going and see how much longer Hanzo could go without pointing it out, at least that way he could attempt to claim that he hadn’t realised. However, given that his partner was even more stubborn than he was, it could get hours for him to give in and inform McCree that he was aware they were lost…by which time they could be goodness knows where, and he for one was quite looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed for the first time in a week. Biting his lip, he sighed in defeat, resigning himself to an afternoon of being subjected to his partner being insufferably smug as he turned towards Hanzo.

“We’re lost…”


	92. McHanzo + Delirious

McCree jumped when Hanzo suddenly latched onto his hand, and he realised that his partner was attempting to focus on him for the first time since his fever had got this high. However, whatever relief he felt from that improvement was ruined by the whispered words that followed.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, Genji.” McCree closed his eyes for a moment, he should have known better than to think they had escaped this…on the rare occasions that Hanzo fell ill, he always did it in style and when his fever rose to the point of delirium the guilt that he never seemed able to escape would rise to the surface.

“It’s alright,” McCree murmured soothingly, reaching up and brushing away the tears that had managed to escape, hesitating as he saw the pleading look. It wasn’t his place to offer his partner forgiveness no matter how much he might want to, but when Hanzo resumed his litany of broken apologies he couldn’t stop himself from cupping the sweaty cheeks, meeting fever-brightened eyes as he whispered softly. “It’s alright…you’re forgiven.”


	93. McHanzo + Death

     McCree thought that he had resigned himself to the fact that he would die in action a long time ago, it seemed logical given how much time he spent fighting. However, now as the chill crept into his limbs, the pain in his side which had been so sharp to start with fading away, he found himself frantically trying to cling to life. It was only when he blinked, struggling to get his eyes open again that he realised that there were tears on his cheeks….and a bitter smile twisted his lips. All those years of being ready to die, accepting that he would probably die alone…all of that had been undermined by one man, but the smile faded at the realisation that he really wasn’t going to get to see him again.

“I’m sorry, Hanzo…”


	94. McHanzo + Lost

    It had been sixth months since he had joined Overwatch and Hanzo still felt completely lost when he was on base, adrift in a sea of cultures and beliefs that were nothing like the ones he had got used to. It didn’t help that he had spent so much time alone during his search for redemption, to the point that when people tried to involve him in conversations that weren’t to do with a job he found himself retreating, watching as the others misinterpreted that as unfriendliness when in reality he was just lost. There was one exception to the rule, and that was McCree. Hanzo couldn’t explain why it was different after all the cowboy with his southern drawl and odd ways was one of the most foreign to him, and if you let him the man could talk for hours…about nothing. However, whenever he was with McCree, he felt a little less lost, the other man offering him an anchor in the sea that always threatened to overwhelm him.


	95. McHanzo + Music

There were many things that McCree loved about Hanzo, and many of them he wasn’t afraid to declare in public, not caring about the fact that other people were listening in and enjoying the pink that would tint the other man’s cheeks. However, one of the things he loved the most was also one of the few that he refused to share with anyone else and not just because his partner had begged him not to…and that was that Hanzo’s singing voice was amazing. He had discovered it by accident one day, coming home from a mission early to find the other man sat folding origami cranes in the living room and singing softly to himself. Hanzo had been embarrassed to be caught, and even though McCree had promised not to say anything, it had been a long time before he got to hear it again…the next time had been when he was ill with a high fever, and his partner had sung to soothe him. That was why he treasured this secret, because that night Hanzo had been singing for him and him alone, and he never wanted that to change.


	96. McHanzo + Rivalry

    Hanzo had never really been a competitive person, when he was younger, he had been too focused on learning enough to take over the family and later…later he had been too focused on seeking redemption to allow himself to stray into other pursuits. Even now he had no real interest in the competitions and dares that seemed rife amongst the members of Overwatch…well at least until a certain cowboy, who was sulking after Hanzo had forced them to get up early for training, commented that he must be getting old after he’d missed a couple of shots. He had known from the moment that he glanced at his partner that it was a challenge, and he contemplated just brushing it aside, but then he caught the smirk on McCree’s face, and he growled under his breath as he realised the other man was waiting for him to do just that.

“You will lose,” he declared instead, silently wondering how he got himself into these situations even as he savoured the look of surprise on McCree’s face, although it was swiftly hidden by a broad grin.

“Those are fighting words…I hope you can live up to them, partner.”


	97. McHanzo + Crushing Sadness

 Hanzo thought that he knew grief and guilt, they were emotions that he had become intimately acquainted with when he had thought that he’d killed Genji and they had lingered even after he had been offered forgiveness.  He had been wrong…as much as he had loved his brother, the feelings he had felt that day were a pale imitation of the pain that sent him crashing to his knees besides McCree’s broken body, the pain that made his fingers tremble as he gripped the cowboy’s sleeve with one hand, whilst the other reached up to brush against cool skin. The pain that cracked his stoic mask as though it was made of glass and sent tears trickling down his cheeks, that tore its way into his heart and left his voice little more than a broken whisper when he finally got it to work.

“Come back…”


	98. McHanzo + Hair

McCree loved Hanzo’s hair, for months before he had finally managed to wear down the other man enough to get him to agree to a date with him, he had fantasised about running his fingers through the dark tresses. When he actually had the right though, he found himself strangely shy…it was an intimate gesture in his mind, and he still wasn’t sure how Hanzo felt about him as the other man was unusually quiet on the subject. It was only a few months later when a throwaway comment about how Hanzo must love him considering all the small things he did for the Cowboy, that McCree realised that the other man had been shouting his feelings in his own way and that he was the one who had been quiet on the subject for fear of rejection. That night he pulled Hanzo close in bed, wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering quietly in his ear that he loved him too and finally…finally, he got to bury his fingers in those soft tresses he had been fantasising about from the start.


	99. McHanzo +Snow

    Hanzo smiled faintly as he heard McCree cursing behind him as he stepped into a deeper drift of snow, the wet material seeping into his boots. He was used to snow, he had endured far worse winters than this, but the cowboy had apparently tended to head for warmer climates when winter came…he was a creature of sun, sand and warmth. There hadn’t been a choice this time though as their target had headed north and they’d had to follow, and the cowboy had been making his displeasure known ever since. The whining and cursing would have been annoying if he couldn’t turn his head and see the pink tinting McCree’s nose, the slight shivers wracking his body and the pout that he kept directing at Hanzo when he thought the other man wouldn’t notice. He also had the perfect way to stop the complaints, and when they paused for a rest, he turned and wrapped himself around the cowboy, lending his partner his warmth and enjoying the sudden silence that fell, as pink of a different kind crept across tanned cheeks.


	100. McHanzo + Silence

McCree was never silent. That was something that Hanzo had learnt through painful experience, especially in the early days when McCree had followed him around, talking about everything and nothing and slowly wearing down his barriers. Even after that, the cowboy had always been there, his voice soft and smooth in his ear…reassuring him, teasing him, loving him. That was why this silence was so terrifying…it reminded him of the long month’s years he had spent alone searching for redemption, and as he gazed at the still figure on the bed, eyes dark as he traced the bandages covering his partner and the wires and machines tying him to life…he knew that he would never be able to survive that kind of life, that kind of silence this time, not now that he had known the warmth of that drawling voice.


	101. McHanzo + Cold Embrace

He had seen the flash of the gun and braced himself, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to dodge this time and that all he could do was hope that he would survive, knowing that Hanzo would never forgive him if he got himself killed here. A split second before he was hit a warm body slammed into him, arms wrapping around him as the additional weight bore him earthwards and he was vaguely aware of the soft cry that echoed in his ears a split second before they hit the ground hard. Pain exploded in the side of his head from the collision, and the world faded around him, his awareness sinking into a grey mist, leaving him incapable of making out anything beyond indecipherable sounds and movements as the battle washed over them and way into the distance. McCree had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually, he found himself drifting back to consciousness although the pain that came with it left him wishing that he hadn’t, although that was soon forgotten as he became aware of the weight resting against his back and the arms still wrapped around him. There was a chill seeping into him from the body pressed against him, and a sick feeling formed in his stomach as he forced himself to move, already knowing down what he was going to find…but that didn’t stop his breath from catching in his throat as he turned to find himself staring into blank, brown eyes. _Hanzo…._


	102. McHanzo + Guilt

McCree paced anxiously outside the hospital room, fear and guilt churning in his stomach, his fingers straying down to his gun holster only to flinch as they came up empty…his expression darkening as he remembered why that was, turning back to peer into the hospital room. He had seen Hanzo in the hospital more times than he cared to count, but this was different and not just because of the machines that he was hooked up to, or the fact that it had been hours and the cowboy still hadn’t been let inside. No this was different because it was his fault…it was his bullets that had put his partner in that room…he had been emptying his clip into one opponent when Hanzo had been sent flying straight into the path of his shots. Not once in all the years of fighting had he experienced the same mind-numbing terror that had engulfed him as he watched Hanzo falling or the unpleasant feeling curling in his gut…

_This was my fault…I got carried away…I didn’t watch out for him…I did this…_


	103. McHanzo + Snipe

“You idiot,” McCree growled as he stomped into the hospital room, eyes narrowed as he took in the pain lining Hanzo’s face and the bandage covering his shoulder, although he was relieved to see that the other man was sitting up and waiting for him. “What the hell were you thinking?” Hanzo had been the one to suggest they try and pick off their enemy from a distance for once, annoyed at the cowboy always getting caught up in the thrill of the fight and running in without thinking, and McCree had agreed just to try and keep the scowl of his partner’s face. What he hadn’t expected to see a few minutes into the fight was Hanzo charging through the middle of the chaos, drawing everyone’s attention to him…for a split second there had been a moment when McCree had been able to snipe at everyone with ease, and then Hanzo had gone down with a cry. “What…?”

“They had found your position…” Hanzo said softly, glancing briefly at the cowboy before looking down at his hands which had curled into fists, and McCree felt his irritation calming even before his partner added softly. “I was just trying to keep you safe for once…”


	104. McHanzo + Younger Days

     McCree was quiet as he stepped into the room, eyes narrowed as he studied the figure curled up in the centre of the bed, there was no sound coming from Hanzo, but he could tell the other man was crying from the way his shoulders would twitch every few seconds. After so many years spent seeking redemption, even when Genji had appeared to tell his brother that he was forgiven…it had all been stolen away from him, the younger Shimada leaping in front of a shot to protect Hanzo a couple of days before and he had passed away that morning. It was a pain that McCree couldn’t even begin to understand, but he knew from experience not to leave the archer alone…and he knew how memories and guilt could consume you, and it was that thought that had him moving forwards and settling down on the edge of the bed, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to lay his hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Tell me about him…tell me what he was like before all this,” he said softly, feeling Hanzo tensing under his hand for a moment and for a moment he thought he had pushed too far, but then in a voice that was hoarse and broken from crying the other man began to talk.


	105. McHanzo + Missed Opportunities

    The words had been right there on the tip of his tongue a few hours before as he watched McCree heading off to finish the job, unable to go with him after an unlucky shot to his leg had taken him out of the fight. He should have said them…they had been hovering unspoken for the last couple of months after the Cowboy had startled him one night, snuggling up behind him in bed and whispering a soft ‘I love you’ in his ear before falling asleep. He had been waiting, wanting to make the moment that he finally said the words to have meaning, and something had told him to say it then when they kissed farewell and when he wished the cowboy good luck, but shyness…and the lingering feeling that he didn’t have the right to feel something like that until he had redeemed himself for what had stopped him.

    Now as he knelt before McCree’s grave and lit the incense, that missed opportunity weighed heavily on his shoulders, because his partner had never been able to hear those words from his lips and there were tears in his eyes as he bowed in front of the grave.

“I love you…”


	106. McHanzo + Bird of Prey

    McCree paused for a moment, readjusting his serape and taking a small sip of water from his flask, begrudging even that brief rest and ignoring the exhaustion tugging at him he slipped the flask away and pressed onwards. Their last job had gone to hell in a handbasket and the entire team had been forced to scatter, and while he was sure that Hanzo had got away from the site, the archer hadn’t made it to any of the rendezvous points, and that had been three days ago. He usually wouldn’t have worried that much…well no that was a lie, that seemed to be all he did these days where his partner was concerned…but it was worse this time, because while he was used to the desert, the other man wasn’t, and he had no idea if Hanzo was hurt of if he had any supplies. _Hanzo…_ A shrill cry dragged him from his thoughts, and instantly alert he lifted his head, using his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding sun only to feel the bottom drop out of his stomach as he spotted the buzzards circling in the distance.

_Hanzo…_


	107. McHanzo + Metal

    Perhaps it was ironic considering he was of a clan that was able to control Dragons, but of all the deaths that he could face as a member of Overwatch, dying in fire had always been the one that Hanzo feared the most….and yet that was the fate facing him now, and there were tears on his cheeks as he abandoned his efforts to pull himself free of the metal beams pinning him in place, coughing as the smoke around him grew even thicker. _McCree…_ He had seen his partner getting out earlier, so at least he had the comfort of knowing the other man would survive, and yet there was a dull ache at the thought that he wouldn’t get to see the other man again. His eyes were drifting shut when he heard movement, and weakly he turned his head towards the sound, eyes widening with horror as he saw the cowboy stumbling towards him.

“Why…?” His voice was little more than a broken whisper as McCree fell to his knees beside him, fresh tears falling as he took in the blood staining the cowboy’s clothes…blood that hadn’t been there the last time he had seen him. _Was he hurt coming back for me?_ Anger and guilt curled in his stomach, breaking through his fear even as he reached out to clutch his partner’s hand. “What were you thinking?”

“As if…I’d let you be alone…darlin’…” McCree replied with a pained grin, leaning in to kiss him clumsily on the cheek just as they heard an ominous creak from above and they had time to share an anguished glance before the world caved in on them in a rush of pain and flames.


	108. McHanzo + Noodle Dragons

    McCree really shouldn’t have been surprised that Hanzo didn’t swear after all the other man was unfailingly polite and formal regardless of what situation they were in…everything could be going to hell around them, everyone else muttering curses down their earpieces and yet there was nothing even approaching a cuss word from his partner. At least not until a couple of months later when he heard a loud clatter from the living room, followed by Hanzo’s voice echoing through their quarters.

“Noodle Dragons!” It was said with enough venom and anger to have been a curse, but…McCree couldn’t help it, he knew that he should be asking what had happened and checking that his partner was alright, but he couldn’t move as chuckle rose in the back of his throat. It turned swiftly into a guffaw, and by the time a sheepish Hanzo had appeared in the doorway, the cowboy was doubled over with laughter, and for weeks afterwards, he would break down in chuckles whenever someone mentioned noodles or dragons.


	109. McHanzo + Sunsets

    Hanzo sighed as he cuddled against McCree, trapping him in place not that the cowboy seemed to have any intention of trying to escape, especially given that his fingers were currently tangled in his hair which had fallen out of its usual tie. The archer hummed appreciatively at the sensation before glancing up at the reds and yellows currently dyeing the sky above them, worrying at his bottom lip for a moment before shifting his attention back to his partner.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” He blurted out, the words escaping before he could filter them, a phenomenon that had been increasing since McCree had forced his way into his life, and he could feel himself colouring as the other man focused on him.

“Worried about me riding off into the sunset, darling?” McCree drawled with a laugh, that tapered off as he saw something flickering in the dark eyes and his expression softened as he reached up to brush his fingers across the archer’s cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere…”


	110. McHanzo + Sunrise Apart

    McCree sighed as he swallowed down the last of his coffee, grimacing at the taste of the black sludge but knowing that he needed it if was going to get through the day and moving across to the window to stare out at the sunrise. He was never up this early by choice…in fact he was only up today because he had come to realise that the bed now felt overwhelmingly huge without Hanzo cuddled up against him, and he scowled down into his cup, the archer was overdue by several days which was doing nothing for his agitation. _Where the hell are you Hanzo? Are you watching this sunrise too?_ Hanzo was usually up at this time of morning…by choice, strange man…it was reassuring in a way to be able to imagine the other man staring at the same sky he was, quieting some of the worries churning in his stomach, but it would be better when they could watch this sunrise together…even if he had to drink several gallons of coffee to make it happen.

_Come home…_


	111. McHanzo + Stars

Sleeping out under the stars was something that McCree had always done, it had been a necessity on many jobs, and when he was a mercenary, it was often safer than trying to find somewhere to hole up for the night. He had spent endless hours laid out watching the sky darken above him, and admiring the stars that would slowly come into sight against the inky darkness…it was a beautiful sight and one that helped to keep the darker memories and nightmares at bay. It was a sight that he had never thought that he would tire off, and he hadn’t…he’d just found something else to look at, and there was a soft smile on his lips as he rolled over to consider Hanzo who was curled up against his side, reaching out to run his fingers through silvery strands. It was no longer the stars above them that kept the darkness at bay, but rather the archer who had just tilted his head to nuzzle against his fingers and he smiled at the sleepy mumble that followed a moment later.


	112. McHanzo + Saloon

    It was odd being in a place where McCree and all his peculiar cowboy mannerisms fit in perfectly, and Hanzo found his gaze drifting back to where his partner was leant on the bar ordering them more drinks, looking more relaxed than he had in a long time. There was a curious ache in his chest as he watched the younger man joking with the barmaid, his customary cigar hanging from his lips and looking so at home in this old fashioned saloon that it was hard to picture him back in their Spartan barracks… _He belongs here, with people like this…_ It was a painful thought, and Hanzo’s expression darkened slightly as he glanced around, noting the curious stares being sent in his direction and suddenly highly aware of how much he must stick out… _I don’t._ It was like being back at the start of their relationship when he hadn’t been able to understand how someone like McCree could look at him like that…he was contemplating getting up and leaving when a warm weight dropped into the seat beside him, pressing against his side and he tilted his head to look at McCree…and suddenly the doubts fled as the cowboy slung an arm around his shoulders, a knowing look in his eyes as he met Hanzo’s gaze…he might not belong in this world, but he knew from the look in McCree’s eyes that he did belong by his side and a small smile tugged at his lips.

  _I can live with that…_


	113. McHanzo + Werewolf

    Hanzo could feel McCree’s breath on his back, the warmth at odds with the chill that was settling over him as he eyed the figures heading through the trees towards their vantage point…they were outnumbered, and the moon that was making it so easy for him to see them, was going to make it just as easy for their enemy to find them. His hands tightened on his bow, and he heard a low snarl behind him, his expression softening as he turned to look at the large, russet wolf sprawled towards him, amber eyes fixed on the hunters heading towards them and he knew that it wouldn’t take much to send the wolf charging after their opponents…making himself into the perfect target, and that was something the archer couldn’t allow.

“Easy…we’ll find a way out,” he said soothingly, reaching out to run his fingers through the soft fur before glancing up at the sky…it was still hours until dawn, hours until McCree would turn back and they could sneak out of here. They had known they were being hunted, it was why they had abandoned the usual places they went on the full moon…but apparently that was what the hunters had been waiting for, and Hanzo wanted to curse, but he held it back, not wanting to rile the werewolf up. “We’ll get out of this…and then you owe me a long day of pampering,” he grimaced slightly as McCree’s tongue ran down the side of his face, pushing the wolf away with a smile. “It’s a deal then…” _If I can live up to my half of it,_ he amended, his hand returning to his bow as weighed the odds once more. _If…_


	114. McHanzo + Alpha/Omega

    McCree snarled under his breath, his arms tightening around Hanzo as he drew the smaller man closer, trying not to let his gaze linger too long on the nasty cuts covering his mate or the way the archer’s arm lay at a weird angle. Hanzo was barely conscious, his breathing coming in short, sharp pants as he tried to stop himself from making a noise, aware that they were being hunted and that even a whimper could give them away now. McCree was injured too but not as severely, but there was a dull ache radiating in his chest as he glanced down at Hanzo before forcing his gaze back to the door, one hand shifting down to his gun as he heard movement in the distance. His mate…his omega was hurting…he had failed to protect him, and he needed to protect him now…his instincts tearing him in two different directions, part of him longing to go after the ones that had put the archer in this condition, the other needing to stay put and protect his mate…although he was down to the last of his bullets and Hanzo couldn’t fight now. Warm fingers tightened around his arm, and he glanced down to find Hanzo peering blearily up at him, brown eyes hazy with pain, but the sheer trust in those dark eyes took his breath away, and he swallowed thickly before forcing his voice to work.

“We’re getting out of this darling.”

_I promise…_


	115. McHanzo + Homecoming

    Hanzo sighed with relief when the door to the quarters he shared with McCree came into sight…the job had run over by several days, and then he had just come back to the debriefing from hell, and all he wanted to do was get home, see his partner and then sleep for a month. If he was honest he had been a little bit disappointed not to find the cowboy waiting for him outside the briefing room, reasonably sure that their arrival would have been announced…however, his irritation was quickly forgotten as he eased the door open and spotted his partner sprawled out on the sofa, fast asleep with his hat hanging off the back. Quietly he slipped inside, closing the door behind him and dumping his stuff just beside it before heading towards his partner, his expression softening as he took in the dark shadows underlying his partner’s eyes, apparently he wasn’t the only one who had been bothered by the time apart. Reaching the sofa, he leant down intending to kiss him awake, only to start when warm brown eyes shot open, McCree leaning up to wrap an arm around his neck and tug him into a kiss instead.

“Welcome home,” McCree’s voice was rough from sleep, but it was warm and soothing, and Hanzo felt it wrapping around him as he allowed the cowboy to tug him down until he was sprawled on top of the cowboy, a small smile slipping free as he cuddled against the younger man… this was the kind of homecoming he could get used to, and his voice was soft as he finally replied.

“I’m home…”


	116. McHanzo + Wedding

    Hanzo had always dreaded his wedding day, expecting it to be a massive event with everyone with any attachment to Shimada clan turning up, not through any particular interest in the fact that he was getting married but to earn favour with the clan. Of course that possibility had been destroyed the day he had walked away from his clan…as had all thoughts of ever getting married, which was why he found himself subtly pinching his side now as he glanced down at the ring on his finger, before his gaze shifted to McCree who was watching him with a ridiculously happy grin on his face. It had been something they had mentioned, lightly and with no intention of following through any time soon…often in the aftermath of a fight that had left one or both of them in the infirmary, and yet when McCree had dragged him to the chapel earlier that day, he hadn’t been able to say no. It was a shotgun marriage, to say the least, and he winced as he thought about how the rest of their team were going to react when they got back, still…his gaze drifted back to the ring on his finger, and he smiled as he felt warm arms go around him…he had to admit it had been perfect, and it was only when he caught Jesse’s grin a moment before the taller man stole a kiss that he realised he’d uttered that thought aloud.


	117. McHanzo + Guitar

    McCree caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and at any other time that would have had him reaching for his gun and taking aim even before he checked who it was. However, as they were currently back at base and he had the utmost faith in Athena to detect any enemies he knew that he wasn’t in any danger…besides he had been waiting for this arrival for the past half hour. Those thoughts raced through his mind, but his fingers never faltered on the guitar strings, the soft strains of music still filling the air slowly drawing Hanzo out of the shadows in the doorway, and he offered the archer a small smile of welcome. Anything else and he would send the older man fleeing from the room, he had learned that the hard way a couple of weeks ago…however, his efforts were rewarded by Hanzo slowly moving across and settling on the sofa, not quite touching but certainly closer than usual and McCree grinned to himself. It had taken a long time to get this far with the stoic archer, but as he felt warm fingers tentatively brushing his elbow, he knew that it had been more than worth it.


	118. McHanzo + Dragons

    Panic was something McCree never really experienced in battle, fights went wrong all the time, and he had seen enough of that to be able to roll with whatever came his way…at least until he heard Hanzo crying out over the communicator and then going silent as the building where he had last been seen went up in a storm of flame, debris and smoke. Panic…or rather sheer terror had him bolting away from the payload before he even thought about what he was doing, trusting that the others could cope without him, and needing to find the archer.  It was only when he burst through the gap in between two warehouses that he spotted the familiar blue glow filling the air, and he felt some of the pressure in his chest easing, if the dragons were still here then Hanzo…still he didn’t slow down, holstering his weapon as he cautiously moved into the debris, sharp eyes darting here and there until he finally spotted the archer sprawled unmoving in a pile of rubble. He wanted to rush to his side, but he was brought up short by the sight of the dragons hovering over his partner, well aware of how protective they were and he couldn’t stop himself from flinching as they suddenly shot forward, brushing past him before disappearing, leaving nothing but a whisper in the back of his mind.

_Protect him…when we cannot…_


	119. McHanzo + Abuse

    McCree was anything but happy as he stalked into the infirmary, but as his gaze fell on the archer lying unconscious on the far bed, his concern far outweighed his anger…for the time being. Angela greeted him quietly, but knew better than to get in his way just yet, letting him make his way across to Hanzo’s bed and settle on the edge of it…his eyes softening as he reached out to run his hand through silvering hair, a soft sigh escaping him as even unconscious the archer sought out his touch. Unfortunately, this was a frequent sight for both of them, as Hanzo seemed incapable or realising his own worth…no matter what McCree or even Genji said to him, the archer was always pushing himself and throwing himself into danger to protect others. The Cowboy could understand his partner’s desire to atone for past sins, it was a goal they both shared after all…but the lengths that Hanzo was going to terrified him, after all, there was only so many risks you could take…only so many times you could abuse your body, pushing it to its limit and beyond before you reached a point that you couldn’t come back from. He just wished that he knew what to do…how to make Hanzo see how much he was really worth…how much McCree needed him, and he just hoped that he would be able to find a way before it really was too late.


	120. McHanzo + Youth

    Life wasn’t fair…that was something that both of them had accepted a long time ago, and yet as they huddled down behind a wall, Hanzo’s hands shaking as he fought to stem the blood leaking from the deep gash in McCree’s side, the Cowboy couldn’t help but think they had really drawn the short straw. He had long since accepted the sins of his youth, his time in the Deadlock Gang had left stains on his soul that he was still working to erase…he just hadn’t anticipated them coming back to haunt him in the middle of a mission. The ambush had caught them both by surprise, and while he had thankfully taken the brunt of the damage, he could see plenty of cuts and bruises littering his partner’s body and his expression tightened as guilt churned in his stomach. In the same way that Hanzo refused to let him help with his search for redemption, he had never wanted the archer caught up in the mess that was his past…but the archer had refused point-blank to leave him behind to deal with it, and despite himself, McCree was grateful for that fact…the past was a painful topic, but having Hanzo there made it easier to face, because he was the present and hopefully the future, and the Cowboy’s expression softened as he gripped the hand pressing into his side.

“Thank you…”

_Thank you for staying…for being here…for choosing me…_


	121. McHanzo + Family

  McCree smiled as he crept up behind Hanzo, not fooled for a moment with the way the archer jumped as he slipped his arms around his waist, well aware that it would take a lot more than a couple of drinks and the loud chatter of the Overwatch agents to dull his partner’s senses. Teasingly, he nipped the archer’s shoulder in punishment for the act, only to yelp as Hanzo swatted at him before tilting his head to peer at him and the Cowboy stilled for a moment, breath catching at the glimmer of happiness in the dark eyes. It wasn’t as rare a sight as it had been when the prickly archer had first joined Overwatch, but it was rarely so visible or so vibrant, and McCree’s expression softened as he turned Hanzo so that they were facing one another.

“You’re happy?” It was a pointless question really because he could see that Hanzo was, but he wanted to hear it said aloud…for Hanzo to say it aloud, and he grinned as he was rewarded with a small nod and a quiet noise of agreement, unable to resist leaning in to steal a little kiss. He knew that he was part of that happiness, but he knew that it was more than just that….that it was Genji laughing in the corner as he chatted with Hana and Lucio…that it was having a home at last…that it was part of this makeshift family of theirs, and as he pulled Hanzo into a tight hug, he couldn’t help but think about how lucky they had both been to find this place.


	122. McHanzo + Dismemberment

    When McCree wakes with a cry, gasping heavily for breath as he grips at the space where his hand should be, Hanzo is already there. It is a pain…a vulnerability that he understands and his voice is low and soothing even as he grips the Cowboy’s face in his hands, waiting until wide eyes slowly meet his before offering him a tentative smile. Before all this…before McCree, he would never have imagined himself being a position to be the one offering someone comfort, let alone that it would be welcomed, but McCree is already leaning into his hands and trying to calm his breathing...fighting back the memories of losing his original hand…of seeing the mechanical one falling away in a mess of scorched metal and sparking wires just a few hours before.

“You are safe,” Hanzo tells him softly, knowing that while the other man might believe him, he won’t settle completely until his mechanical hand is returned from the workshop and back where it belongs. Leaning in, he lets his forehead fall against McCree’s, able to feel the other’s breathing calming and this time, his smile is a little more confident as he adds firmly. “And I am here.”


	123. McHanzo + Coffee

    Hanzo watched with soft eyes as McCree stumbled into the kitchen, grunting something that might have been a greeting or a warning to stay away as he made a beeline for the coffee pot. The archer was used to this routine by now, and he bit back the urge to point out to the Cowboy that he had his shirt on inside out, or that he had managed to pull on mismatched boots…McCree would realise as soon as the coffee got to work, and pointing out such things before the other man had at least two cups of coffee was a death wish. It was like watching a plant reviving after being watered…one cup of coffee, or sludge considering the amount of the stuff that McCree put in his mug, saw coherence seeping into his expression and an understandable greeting…two cups, saw him grumbling under his breath as he eyed his wardrobe disasters and standing a little taller…partway through the third cup, he was moving across the kitchen to finally greet the archer properly with a small kiss.


	124. McHanzo + Parenting

    This was not quite what he’d had in mind when he’d agreed to stop by and visit his mother, and McCree was wondering what on earth he had done to deserve this punishment as he stared around at the small group of local children that had pounced on him the moment he had arrived. Apparently she had been busy telling stories about her cowboy son, and there was no way the kids were going to miss the opportunity to meet him…the problem being that aside from Hana, who would kill him for thinking about her as a kid, he had zero experience with dealing with kids and somehow he doubted that telling them to get lost or firing a shot to scare them was out of the question. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth, intending to try and launch into a tale to distract them, only to pause as two boys at the back began to squabble, quickly escalating into a fistfight and throwing an anxious glance back at the door to his mother’s house he darted forward and intercepted their blows.

“That’s enough of that,” he drawled as he grabbed them gently and pulled them apart, scowling down at them. “If you don’t stop that I ain’t sticking around…” Apparently, that threat was enough because they immediately subsided, staring at him with even more fascination before and all McCree could think about was the fact that this was coming far too close to parenting for his liking.


	125. McCree + Teaching

“You need to stay calm,” McCree instructed, wincing as Hana’s shots carved a path along the wall above the target, although he noted that several of them had caught the edge of the target. She had always been better with her shots in the midst of battle, but even then she tended to get caught up in the adrenaline rush of the fight, and that was why she had sought him out for help, wanting to up her game and hoping that his ability to aim unerringly in the chaos of battle would help. He had been sure that she was going to get bored of it after a while, but she had come back day after day, even though he was reasonably sure that he was the worst possible teacher…he couldn’t even explain exactly how his aim worked…

“I am calm!” She grumbled, but she didn’t complain when he arched an eyebrow at her, taking a step back and taking a deep breath before nodding at him and lifting her gun once more. “Fine…let’s go again. Teach.”


	126. McCree + Scolding

    McCree grumbled under his breath as he settled into the furthest possible booth in the bar, slamming the bottle of whiskey and his glass down with more force than necessary. He knew that he was being immature, but he didn’t care…it had been a bad day, first of all, the job had gone to hell from the beginning, the bandage around his arm more than enough evidence of that. However, that hadn’t been the worse part…no, it had been the almost endless stream of scoldings he had been forced to endure since getting back to base…sure he had been more reckless than he should have, but really, was he supposed to just sit there and let Ana and the other’s get overwhelmed? First, it had been Mercy, scolding him for getting hurt again…then Ana for interfering in business that he wasn’t supposed to be involved in…then Winston for being reckless…on and on until he had finally exploded, storming out of the base and heading for the nearest bar. He knew that he would probably owe a few people apologies in the morning, but for now, all he cared about was drowning out their words…hopefully with a copious amount of alcohol.


	127. McHanzo + Death

“How long are you going to prolong the inevitable?” If it were any other situation McCree would have admired Hanzo’s ability to remain calm, however, now was not the time calmly talking about death…about Hanzo’s death, because as strong as he was there was no way he could survive the fall that awaited if McCree let go and his grip tightened frantically on the archer’s wrist at that thought.

“I ain’t letting you go,” he growled warningly, already able to see the words on the tip of his partner’s tongue and dark eyes narrowed in irritation for a moment, before a small smile crept across his face.

“I know,” Hanzo murmured softly, and for a moment there was pain in the dark eyes before it was replaced with resolution and McCree felt dread pool in his stomach. He opened his mouth to demand what was going through Hanzo’s mind, only for the words to die as he felt strong fingers digging into where his mechanical hand connected to his arm…the hand that was the only thing stopping Hanzo from falling, and ignoring the strain in his shoulders he lunged to stop him, only for pain to lance through his arm as the archer succeeded in his goal. Then the archer was falling, McCree’s cry following him and the Cowboy felt tears on his cheek when Hanzo actually smiled at him just before he passed out of sight… 


	128. McHanzo + Death

     Hanzo couldn’t breathe, and it had nothing to do with the pain radiating through his own body, but everything to do with the body he was cradling against his chest.

“Idiot…what were you thinking?” He managed to demand, earning a weak chuckle from the Cowboy as McCree finally managed to coax his eyes open, peering up at him with a soft smile that appeared completely out of place amongst the blood and bruises. “Jesse…”

“It must be bad if you’re using my first name,” McCree managed to whisper, able to count on one hand the number of times the archer had called him Jesse…nearly always in dire situations he thought with a groan, before curling his fingers around Hanzo’s hand, eyes widening as he felt how badly his partner was trembling. _Oh, so it’s that bad…_ He should have known from the fear in the archer’s voice…and from the numbness spreading through his body, but then he had always been slow on the uptake, and his lips quirked up slightly at that thought even as his eyes drifted shut. _I was too slow realising what you were to me…too slow to protect myself today…too slow…_


	129. McHanzo + Scars

   McCree’s expression was soft as he gently traced the line of a scar that ran diagonally across Hanzo’s shoulder, before leaning in to press a kiss to the damaged skin. It always amazed him how different the archer’s body was up close…at a distance, he looked perfect, but at night when they were curled this closely, it was impossible to miss the scars that marred smooth skin.

“How did this one happen?” He asked quietly, tapping the scar he had just kissed and Hanzo hummed, half asleep after his ministrations, and he smiled at the noise, half expecting that he wasn’t going to get an answer to his question.

“Assassin…I was injured, and he got the drop on me…I ended up in a hospital for a week before I was released…”

“Released or escaped?” McCree asked with a chuckle, deciding that was a safer topic than the thought of Hanzo being out there and targeted by assassins…he knew that was part of the archer’s life from before the recall, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear about…or see the evidence of, he amended as he ran his finger over the scar once more.


	130. McHanzo + Jealous

    Hanzo knew that he was being foolish and that he was sulking, but he always felt a slight sting of jealousy when they were around the rest of Overwatch…it was hard to be there, watching as McCree strayed easily from his side, fitting in with every conversation and group that he joined. He could talk weapons with Soldier 76 and Ana, get into competitions with Lucio and Hana…and fit in with all the others just as easily, always with a smile that could light up the room and it was hard to watch. _I want this…_ He thought as he retreated to his usual corner, close enough that he couldn’t be called too anti-social, but not close enough to intrude, his gaze never leaving his partner as he found himself wondering yet again what the Cowboy saw in him. _We’re different…maybe too different…_ Sighing at a thought that haunted him more than he cared to admit he leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, only to open them in shock a couple of minutes later when a warm body sat next to him, pressed too close for it to be anyone but McCree and he glanced at his partner just before a wave of noise hit him as Hana, Lucio and Junkrat joined them.

“See,” McCree’s voice was barely a whisper in his ear, a knowing glint in his eyes as he tilted his head towards the other. “You belong here just as much as I do…”


	131. McHanzo + Relaxing

“Let me go,” Hanzo ground out through gritted teeth, wondering just how much trouble he would be in if he punched his partner in the face right now as he took in the determined glint in the Cowboy’s eyes and he wiggled again, trying to free himself to no avail. “McCree…”

“No,” McCree scowled at the archer, tightening his grip as he felt Hanzo beginning to pull free…cursing at his partner’s strength even when he was recovering from an injury, but refusing to back down even when Hanzo’s expression darkened, and his tone was sharp as he shifted, so their gazes met.   “We’re not doing anything today, apart from relaxing…doctor’s orders remember?” Mercy had made it clear that they would both be in a world of trouble if they did anything else, and he didn’t fancy testing her resolve…

“I am fine,” Hanzo muttered.

“No you’re not,” McCree pointed out as his hand shifted so that he could run his fingers over the bandages covering his partner’s shoulder, eyes dark as he recalled just how lucky they were that the archer was lying here to bicker with him…and he was caught by surprise when Hanzo suddenly melted against him, expression softening as he reached up to brush his fingers over McCree’s cheeks.

“I am fine…but maybe one day of rest…would be okay.”


	132. McHanzo + Coming Out

    McCree felt Hanzo tensing beside him as they stepped into the communal area, and he tightened his hold on his partner’s hand to stop him from bolting, able to understand his surprise if not his fear as he glanced up at the banner on the wall that read ‘Congratulations’ and the food and drinks on the far table…it seemed as though their coming out had been predicted, and seeing Genji bouncing towards them, it didn’t take much to work out who had outed them. _Bloody ninja…_

“I hate you…” Apparently, Hanzo had reached the same conclusion, his voice a low growl, although his eyes were soft as he glanced at his brother and McCree smiled slightly.

“I love him,” He proclaimed, ignoring the death glare he received from his partner or the laughter coming from the ninja, instead focusing on squeezing Hanzo’s fingers. “Come on…you have to admit this is better than what you were expecting?” The archer had been fretting about this for the past few days, and for McCree this reaction was everything they needed…and when Hanzo relaxed slightly a moment later it was clear that he had reached the same conclusion, a soft smile appearing as his gaze shifted back to his brother.

“Thank you…”


	133. McHanzo + Cooking

     Hanzo grumbled under his breath as he felt warm arms slipping around his waist, but he made no attempt to push the Cowboy off, instead adjusting his arms so that he could continue to cook unhindered even as he tilted his head back to accept the kiss that he knew was coming.

“If I burn this, it’s all your fault,” he warned as he felt McCree’s hands beginning to wonder, his breath hitching at the warm chuckle from behind him before a gentle kiss was pressed to the tip of his ear, and he groaned…that warning had apparently only encouraged his partner…not that he could really find it in himself to complain, and instead he found himself fumbling to move the pan off the heat and turn the cooker off a split second before he was tugged around. “Jesse…I thought you were hungry?”

“I am,” McCree agreed with a devilish smile that made the archer’s heart race, and he was fairly sure he was turning red as the taller man leant in, lips ghosting over his. “Just not for your food, delicious as it is…”


	134. McHanzo + Amusement Park

    McCree was struggling not to laugh at his partner, but so far he had avoided giving in to temptation, instead watching with a soft smile as Hanzo glanced around with a mixture of curiosity, disapproval and something that would have been excitement in a less composed individual. The Cowboy had been horrified to learn that Hanzo had never been to an amusement park, overhearing a conversation between his partner and Genji who had just come back from a trip with Hana and Lucio…and he had immediately decided that it was a ‘cultural experience’ that his partner needed as soon as possible. It had taken a lot of persuasion, and a promise to cook for the next week and to practice with him before Hanzo had even agreed to the idea…and it hadn’t been without complaints. However, they had already been here a few hours, and despite his original reluctance Hanzo was finally beginning to loosen up and enjoy the rides and atmosphere…and McCree had finally earned a proper smile when he had managed to win the archer a stuffed dragon on one of the shooting games, and he jolted as he felt warm fingers brushing against his, glancing up to find that Hanzo was looking at him.

“Thank you for today…”


	135. McHanzo + Vampire & Vampire Hunter

    McCree wanted to curse…howl at the unfairness of the situation…but all he could do was stand there frozen in place, weapon falling from suddenly nerveless fingers as the vampire stalked towards him, dark eyes turning crimson as it drew closer and he hated the way his heart sped up at the sight…and the realisation that it wasn’t just because of fear. He had heard stories of the vampire haunting the old Shimada compound…all his research pointing to it being Hanzo Shimada, the clan heir who had disappeared years before, and the thought of being able to take down such high profile prey had been irresistible despite all the warnings from his fellow hunters. He had done his research, come armed to the teeth, and yet it had all been for nothing…he hadn’t even managed to scratch the creature before their gazes had met and he had found himself unable to move, not even to speak. Defeat washed over him as the vampire drew level with him, and yet now that they were barely a foot apart he was stunned by the pain in the crimson eyes…the loneliness, and despite everything he felt pity for the creature…right until something whispered in the back of his mind, and he found himself obediently tilting his head to the side, gulping as he realised what he was doing and yet unable to fight the command. _I…can’t stop this,_ he thought, horrified to realise that he didn’t want to as sharp teeth scraped the side of his neck and his eyes fluttered shut… _I lost…_


	136. McHanzo + Cuddling

    McCree frowned as he woke up to the sound of Hanzo making distressed noises, instinctively reaching out for the other man even as he tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes, dismayed to find that the archer was hunched up at the far side of the bed. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence…nightmares were a frequent occurrence for both of them, but it had been a long time since Hanzo had actually retreated from him, nowadays it was more common for the Cowboy to be woken by his partner practically clinging to him. Cautiously he moved across so that he could reach out and brush his fingers against the archer’s arm, waiting to see whether his touch was welcomed or rejected, relief flooding him when Hanzo turned towards him, still caught in the grasp of the nightmare but now reaching out for him…silently pleading for comfort. He didn’t need any more encouragement, gently tugging the shorter man into his arms, manoeuvring them so that Hanzo’s head was resting against his chest so that the sound of his heartbeat could help sooth his partner. It took a while, but gradually Hanzo began to settle, the distressed noises fading away as his arms slowly crept around McCree, cuddling into the younger man and melting against him.


	137. McHanzo + Sleeping

    Their rooms were quiet when he stepped inside, and McCree frowned, fairly sure that Hanzo had said that he was heading back when he had passed him nearly an hour before on his way to the practice range, and the archer always made sure to tell him if he changed his plans. Tossing his hat on the side he closed the door, hoping that the other man was just in the bedroom or bathroom, only to come up short as he turned around and spotted his partner sprawled on the sofa…a soft smile creeping onto his face as he realised the archer was fast asleep. It was silly, but he couldn’t stop his smile from growing into a grin as he moved across to the other man…in the past he would barely have made it one step before Hanzo was springing awake and reaching for his bow, but today he didn’t stir in the slightest, and it dawned on him that it had been a long time since he had startled the other awake…and it warmed him to know that the flighty archer who still kept the majority of their teammates at arm’s length, and who would jerk awake at their approach had come to trust him so much. Reaching the sofa, he hesitated for a moment, studying the mercifully peaceful expression on his partner’s face before giving in to temptation to reach down and brush a wayward strand of hair out of Hanzo’s face, brushing a thumb across soft skin with a small smile before he forced himself to retreat to the other room so that he didn’t disturb the other man.


	138. McHanzo + Scar

     McCree never usually cared about his mechanical hand or the scar that ran up his arm, marking the path of the wound that had cost him his original hand and nearly cost him the entire arm. It didn’t stop him from fighting, and more than once, it had earned him an interesting encounter in bed…however, suddenly, he found himself feeling incredibly aware of the scar as Hanzo stared at him with unfathomable eyes. It had taken months of gentle conversation and spending time with the archer to get them to this stage, and he wanted to curse at the nerves he could now feel churning in his stomach, his mechanical hand sounding deafening in the sudden silence that had fallen as he curled it into a tight fist. The temptation to curse was even stronger when he flinched in response to Hanzo taking a small step forward, the older man hesitating for a moment, a worryingly knowing look in the dark eyes before he moved forward again, reaching out to take the clenched fist in his hands. He didn’t speak, but there was a soft expression that McCree had never seen on his face before as he slowly lifted the hand to his lips, beginning to press gentle, reverent kisses to each finger…holding the Cowboy’s gaze as he moved upwards, lips soft against the scar as he traced its path, and slowly it dawned on him just how foolish it had been to fear this man.


	139. McHanzo + Feral

“Hanzo…?” McCree asked cautiously as he took a small step towards the archer, only to pause when his partner’s gaze snapped to him, something that sounded alarmingly like a growl rumbling through the smaller man. The light leaking into the cell from behind him was enough for him to see the cuts and bruises littering Hanzo’s body, fury building in his chest as he took in the damage and it took all his strength to stop his hands curling into fists, fairly sure that gesture wouldn’t go down well at the moment. It had been three months since Talon had got their hands on his partner, and it looked as though even his worst imaginings hadn’t come close to what they had done to Hanzo and his heart ached. _I should have got here sooner,_ he thought watching as the archer shifted anxiously against the wall, feral eyes…wilder than those the former assassin had when he first joined Overwatch, burning into him, and for the first time, he wondered if it would even be possible to bring Hanzo back from this…


	140. McHanzo + Execution

     Hanzo struggled desperately against the chains binding him against the wall; apparently their captors had known better than to trust rope, although given the weakness hampering his movements he wasn’t entirely sure that he could have escaped rope either. Still, he didn’t stop his struggled, wild eyes fixated on McCree as his partner was hauled up to the makeshift gallows that the remnants of the Deadlock gang had taken great delights in erecting in front of them…the Cowboy looked half-dead already, blood staining his front and chin, head bowed against his chest…but as they forced him to stand, looping the noose around his neck, McCree finally lifted his head, bleary eyes seeking out Hanzo, and the archer’s blood ran cold at the acceptance he could see in his partner’s gaze.

“I’m sorry…” It was quiet, barely audible at this distance, but Hanzo heard it anyway, and his heart shattered as he heard the farewell hidden without those words. With an inarticulate cry of pain and rage, he flung himself forward, not caring that the chains were now digging deep enough to draw blood, unable to focus on anything but getting to McCree even as their captors reached for the lever…

“JESSE!”


	141. McHanzo + Jealousy

    McCree could practically hear his partner’s voice in the back of his mind, telling him that he was being even more idiotic than usual and that there was no need to be jealous, but he couldn’t bring himself to care…or to believe it…his eyes narrowing as he watched the new agent, some former retainer of the Shimada clan who had avoided Overwatch’s purge, leaning in much too close for his liking. The man had set him on edge from the start, but both Hanzo and Genji had welcomed him, so he had held his peace and just watched…but…the man was much too friendly, and much too focused on his partner for his liking. Seeing the man’s hand moving again he took a half step forward, some half-formed thought of intervening when a loud crack rang through the room, and he blinked as he realised that Hanzo had slapped the reaching a hand away, and had now drawn himself up to his full height…still shorter than the newcomer, but somehow more threatening, especially now that his expression had darkened.

“Enough…” Hanzo’s voice was cold enough to outdo Mei’s ice, and McCree decided that he was perfectly happy where he was… “Your past with our family does not excuse your current behaviour, especially when I have already declined your advances and warned you that my partner is present.” Two pairs of eyes darted to him, and he managed a smug smirk at his competitor and a tip of his hat before he turned to Hanzo with a softer expression as he realised his concerns had been for nought.


	142. McHanzo + Redemption

    McCree sighed as he stepped into the training room, sharp eyes taking in the shocking number of arrows embedded in the targets…the wall…the floor, concern pooling in his stomach as his gaze shifted across to his partner. Hanzo was breathing heavily, looking as though he could barely stand, an effect heightened by the dark shadows that had been growing daily beneath his eyes and he cursed himself for leaving it this long.

“Hanzo?” There was no reply from the archer, and his concern tripled as he watched the other man struggling to notch another arrow and he moved forward as he spotted the blood on Hanzo’s hand. _Just how long has he been here? How many arrows has he fired…?_ “Darling…you need to put the bow down now,” he coached gently when he reached the shorter man, hesitantly reaching out to tug the bow out of his partner’s hands, not sure whether to be relieved or not that it came away easily. “Hanzo…?” The pain in the shadowed eyes that met his was heart-breaking, and his breath caught at the broken words that followed.

“I have to get better…I need to get stronger…so I make amends…so that I can earn redemption…”


	143. McHanzo + Bruises

“I thought you said that you weren’t hurt?” McCree demanded as he shot to his feet, reaching out to stop Hanzo who was in the midst of getting ready for bed, his expression dark as he took in the bruises that had been hidden beneath the archer’s clothes.

“No,” Hanzo corrected him, pulling free so that he could continue getting ready for bed, unable to hide the small wince that slipped through.  “I said that I was fine…” He continued, only a hint of tension in his voice to show that he was hurting.  “Bruises are nothing.” McCree knew that he couldn’t really argue, after all it was rare that they got through a mission with nothing more than bruises…but that didn’t make it any easier for him to see the discoloured skin or the small signs of pain that he had been missing before and he cautiously stepped up to his partner again, gently wrapping his arms around the shorter man’s waist.

“It doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you….”


	144. McHanzo + Fever

     Hanzo hissed as he dabbed at the nasty gash on his arm, but he didn’t have eyes for his own wound, his attention riveted to the restless figure on the bed. McCree had been tired and out of sorts all day, but it was only as the evening had fallen that it had developed into a full-blown fever…and it had been hours after that he had been woken to the sound of Peacekeeper being cocked. It had taken him a split second to register that the gun was pointed at him by trembling hands, his partner’s eyes hazy with fever, and then he had been moving…barely rolling to safety as the Cowboy fired, winging him when he hadn’t been quick enough to dodge the second shot, and it had been pure adrenaline that had allowed him to knock the gun out of McCree’s hand. The sudden loss of his weapon had brought a spark of awareness to McCree’s eyes, and Hanzo had seen the guilt that had followed as some awareness of what had happened reached his partner and he had been quick to nip that in the bud…gently chasing the taller man back to bed and forcing him to down some medicine and water, unsurprised when McCree had fallen asleep again almost immediately. As soon as he was sure the younger man was asleep, he had moved all weapons out of reach and set to work tending his arm, determined to hide all trace of it in the hopes that McCree would write it off as a feverish dream.


	145. McHanzo + Pride

McCree watched Hanzo with narrowed eyes, making no effort to hide his worry or growing irritation at this point, instead silently shadowing the archer and waiting for the inevitable collapse. A lesser man would have already collapsed from the wounds Hanzo was currently sporting after a frantic fire-fight that they had barely managed to win…and a sensible man would have already accepted his weakness and asked for help, but Hanzo was a proud man, reluctant to accept help even when he needed it…although McCree knew that part of it also stemmed from a belief that he didn’t deserve help. He couldn’t hold back a low growl as he watched Hanzo stumble slightly, reaching out to grasp the wall in an attempt to steady himself, holding on too long for McCree’s liking.

“Ha…”

“Jesse,” the rare use of his first name was a definite indicator that things were bad, and he was already lunging forwards even as Hanzo finally abandoned his pride and turned to reach for him. “I can’t…”

“Easy, I’ve got you,” McCree soothed, all irritation gone as he gently wrapped an arm around the shorter man and took as much of his weight as he could. _It’s going to be okay…._


	146. McHanzo + Laughter

    Hanzo stared across the room at the corner where his partner was sat sprawled, chatting happily with Hana and Lucy…the corner that had just erupted in raucous laughter at something the Cowboy had said, and he found himself staring at the younger man. He had always been fascinated by the other man’s laugh, it was deep and warm, filling the air with similar warmth and drawing everyone to it…even Hanzo, and he found himself moving forward without thought, feeling as though he was being drawn into the sun. It was made even better when the Cowboy spotted him coming, eyes dancing with happiness and a hint of surprise that he was willingly moving across to join them when he normally tried to stay separate at these kind of gatherings.

“Hanzo?” McCree’s hand was warm around his, tugging him gently until he fell into the spot that had opened beside him and the archer felt himself turning red as McCree hastily wrapped an arm around him, trapping him in place, uncaring of their audience. “

“You were laughing,” Hanzo muttered by way of an explanation as he realised McCree was still waiting for an answer, feeling the Cowboy quaking beneath him, the same warm sound before embracing him and this time he willingly curled closer to his partner.


	147. McHanzo + Pride

     McCree watched the newest recruit to the reformed Overwatch with interest and a hint of wariness, he had heard of Hanzo Shimada even before he had met Genji, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the conflicting stories…all he knew was that the quiet man who drifted through the base like a ghost, always where he was needed, but never really there was someone he wanted to know better. The problem was that the archer was clearly struggling to adapt to life with others, wary of interacting with them, and clearly aware of their own wariness stemming from what he done to his brother…he wouldn’t accept friendship or more easily, or accept any companionship that could be construed as pity. Which was why McCree was watching him…again…. trying to find anything that he could use as an opening, but it was hard to see any common ground between them…unless you counted difficult pasts and somehow he doubted that was something the archer would be willing to bond over. In the end it was a throwaway comment, overheard as he passed by an alcove where the Shimada brothers were discussing the training ground that gave him the opening he had been looking for and the next day he tailed Hanzo to the training room, stepping inside with a warm grim and confident expression as he held up his gun.

“Genji said you were looking for some competition in your training, fancy taking me on?”


	148. McHanzo + Laughter

     He wasn’t sure what he had expected…he knew Hanzo well enough by this point to know that there was no way he would have a raucous laugh; it just wasn’t something that would fit the image he had of his partner. However, when he finally got to hear the older man laugh…it was a beautiful sound…quiet, probably inaudible if they were surrounded by the usual noise and chaos of the other agents and warm, and when he turned to look at the archer, he was stunned. The stoic expression was gone, replaced with a soft expression and a spark in the dark eyes that McCree decided there and then he wanted to see as much as possible, lips curved in a small, but honest smile. It was nothing like he had expected…it was a thousand times better, and he found unable to resist this new, softer Hanzo, and he found himself drawn to the shorter man like a moth to the flame, wrapping his arms around the archer and kissing the side of his neck.

“You should laugh more often…”

_Please…please let me see you like this again…._


	149. McHanzo + Accents

Hanzo was torn between amusement and a growing desire to wince as McCree dutifully recited the list of words the archer had given him to learn. He had been stunned when the younger man had expressed a desire to learn Japanese, and even more surprised by the dedication his partner had shown…. the only snag they had hit…he winced unable to stop it this time as McCree’s southern accent clashed harshly with his language. McCree’s eyes were crinkled with amusement at the expression on his face, his accent getting stronger if that was possible and Hanzo growled under his breath as he realised he was being teased, biting his bottom lip for a moment before he stalked across to the Cowboy.

“What are you laughing at partner?” He demanded as he dropped down in McCree’s lap, doing his best imitation of his partner’s accent…his expression softening as they both winced at his attempt, and he opened his mouth to apologise only to be cut off by McCree stealing a quick kiss, his eyes narrowing as he felt the younger man grinning into the kiss.

“You,” he replied with a laugh as they pulled apart, yelping as the archer hit him and hastily wrapping him up in a hug to protect himself.


	150. McHanzo + Magic

    McCree had never been one for believing in magic, not after everything he had seen and done…it didn’t seem possible that the world could be in the state that it was, and have magic exist. However, that was an opinion he was rapidly having to revise and all because of a certain archer…and not just because of the way he could summon his Spirit Dragons, although the sight of the mystical beasts rising from the older man’s tattoo had been pretty good evidence…no it had more to do with the fact that he found himself unable to drag his attention away from the archer, utterly enchanted by the new agent even if Hanzo seemed less enchanted with him. He ignored Genji’s sly whisper that it was more to do with science…and the fact that his downstairs brain was in control, the ninja having noticed his interest even before he had…it had to be magic…because this was nothing like anything he had experienced before, and he was fairly sure had run the full gauntlet of emotions during his time with the Deadlock Gang and Overwatch and so it had to be something more.


	151. McHanzo + Tattoo

Hanzo hummed softly as he drifted awake, unable to recall falling asleep, but easily able to tell that he was sprawled on their bed as he nuzzled the pillow in front of him, Jesse’s scent lingering on the fabric and he smiled…. until a soft chuckle broke the silence, and he lifted his head just enough to find McCree laid on his side behind him, watching him with warm eyes. It took him a moment to realise that it was the Cowboy who had woken him, tilting his head slightly to the side as he felt gentle fingers tracing the tattoo on his arm, relieved that he wasn’t ticklish as the younger man had developed a slight obsession with doing this. In the past he had hated anyone touching the mark, but now he found himself relaxing again, melting against his partner as he watched the slow progress of McCree’s fingers and he actually shifted to make it easier for the other man, letting his eyes drift shut again…for once feeling completely safe and at ease as he lost himself to the sensation of the other man’s touch.


	152. McHanzo + Dragons

“Help me aim…” Hanzo’s voice was barely above a whisper, his face twisted with pain as he struggled to force himself into an upright position and McCree hastily moved to support him, not liking how pale the archer had become in the last few minutes.

“You need to rest…”

“We need to end this,” Hanzo corrected him through gritted teeth, struggling to draw his bow and the Cowboy sighed as he moved to help him, well aware that they both needed medical treatment…Hanzo even more than he did, and that there was no way they were getting it without a miracle, he just wished that they didn’t have to rely on Hanzo for that miracle. “It’s going to be strange…possibly painful,” the archer warned softly, sagging against him and McCree growled, hating that even now the other man was worrying about him, but he bit back his angry words as together they drew back the bow and fired, shouting in perfect unison.

“Ryū ga waga teki o kurau!” It started a strange buzzing pressure, and it was just approaching discomfort when the twin dragons emerged, and McCree felt his breath catching as the beasts passed through them before shooting away from them, tearing through their opponents without hesitation.


	153. McHanzo + Fire

McCree growled under his breath as he glanced around, slowly lowering his gun as he realised the weapon was going to be no use against the flames that were creeping closer to him by the moment. His eyes were constantly on the move, searching for a way out or at least something he could use to combat the fire until one of the others came for him…speaking of which, his fingers were trembling slightly as he turned on the distress beacon on the communicator, wishing that the communicator itself was still working, but he had dropped it earlier, and he hadn’t heard from his team in ages, but he was unable to see anything else that was going to help him at the moment, and he could only hope that someone was close enough to help. _This is bad…_

    Minutes ticked by, and he had been forced to retreat as best he could, but time was running out, and he was out of places to flee to, and he squeezed his eyes shut…fire was one hell of a way to die, and there was an unpleasant sensation in his chest at the thought of not being able to see Hanzo again. However, his eyes flew open a moment later when he heard glass breaking above his head, half expecting to see more flames and instead he was stunned to find Hanzo crouched in what remained of a high window…dark eyes more frantic than McCree had ever seen them, at least until their gazes met.

“McCree…”


	154. McHanzo + Cut

“Hold still,” Hanzo ordered in exasperation as Jesse’s arm jerked yet again, tightening his fingers in warning, although his touch was still gentle as he examined the nasty gash stretching the length of his partner’s lower arm. “You’re lucky it didn’t go deeper…” McCree grimaced at that comment, well aware of just how lucky he had been….to be honest, he had half thought that the blow might take his right arm as well…it probably would have if the archer hadn’t come charging in like an idiot, nearly getting himself killed in the process.

“I would rather have lost that arm…than you,” he muttered, his eyes flashing as he glanced up Hanzo…he had tried to hold it back, but now the adrenaline was wearing off, it was dawning on him just how close he had come to losing his partner and his temper flared. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I didn’t want to lose you…” Hanzo snapped back, drawing a hiss from the Cowboy when he pressed too hard on the cut, and he sighed, shooting McCree an apologetic look. “I didn’t want to lose my partner…”


	155. McHanzo + Bruise

    Hanzo winced, rubbing a hand over his chest as he studied the bruise that was spreading across his skin…it was a nasty mix of black and purple, and it hurt like hell to touch, but he knew that he was lucky to have got off so lightly when his perch had been blown up beneath him that morning. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong and he rubbed at it again, jumping when a metal hand landed on his shoulder, and he hastily withdrew his hand as he turned to look at McCree, easily able to read the concern in the Cowboy’s eyes after months together.

“All right there, partner?” Hanzo opened his mouth intending to reassure his partner that he was okay, after all, it was just a bruise, but his voice didn’t want to cooperate…his breath hitching as he became aware of a burning sensation in his chest, and his eyes widened in alarm as he realised that this was much worse than a bruise. Thankfully McCree had been focused on his face, no doubt looking for a lie in a response, and he knew at once that something was wrong and he was already moving when Hanzo fell, easily catching the archer and lowering him to the ground even as he reached for the communicator they had both taken to carrying everywhere…cursing them both for not getting the ‘bruise’ checked out earlier as Hanzo’s eyes slipped shut.


	156. McHanzo + Smile

   McCree had always loved Hanzo’s smile. It had been the first glimpse of it, that tiny half-smile that drove the shadows from his eyes for a brief second, that had told him that there had been more to the archer than the angry man he had first met. It had taken time and effort to work his way into the older man’s life as more than a colleague, but it had been worth it, because he had been able to see that smile again and again…the shadows slowly receding, only reappearing after a nightmare or during a particularly bad job, and it warmed him to know that he had managed to change the other man…as much as Hanzo had unwittingly changed him. He had believed that it was impossible for him to ever hate that smile…he had been wrong…

     As he clung to the archer, desperately shouting for Mercy as he felt Hanzo struggling for air, trying not to focus on the feeling of blood soaking into his clothes…he watched with horror as Hanzo focused on him, eyes strangely bright as he raised a trembling hand to touch his cheek, lips quirking up into a weak smile even as his eyes drifted shut…his struggling chest stilling even as the healer came hurtling into view, …and in that instance, he hated that smile.


	157. McHanzo + Morning

    Hanzo had always been a morning person…at first, it was because his father and the clan elders demanded it, he had to be up early and training, always training…later it was because of the nightmares, memories of his blade plunging into Genji that had roused him at an ungodly hour…then it had become second nature. However, he had a better reason now…a small smile creeping across his face as he rolled onto his side to study the man sprawled beside him, shaking his head as McCree snorted loudly before shifting closer to him with a mumble that could have been his name…or a demand for coffee. The Cowboy was always a mess in the morning, completely at odds with the archer who always woke up ready to go…it was a difference that once upon a time would’ve driven Hanzo up the wall, but now he found it strangely endearing as he reached out to ghost his fingers over the younger man’s face. The early mornings of the past had faded away, and now he would do anything to protect these precious moments with McCree…even the grumpy version of his partner that he would be faced with shortly.


	158. McHanzo + Sleep

    Hanzo never slept around them…it was something that McCree had noticed on a mission where their team had wound up stranded and having to wait for a couple of days for extraction, they had been safe enough, but someone had always kept watching, letting the others rest and eat and work on their weapons… but while the archer was always there, willing to do his bit and working just as hard as the others, McCree had never seen him sleep, and a quiet word with the others confirmed it…Hanzo hadn’t slept once during that mission. McCree had been too wary to bring it up with Hanzo, but he had sought out Genji when he got back…surprised by the sorrow, he detected from the ninja before he had found himself floored by tales of how they had been trained with surprise night ‘training’…how Hanzo had learnt never to sleep near someone unless he trusted them completely. He hadn’t said anything then, but that night watching how Hanzo watched everyone with wary eyes, he had promised himself that one day he would find a way to convince the archer that he could be trusted…one day he would be able to see Hanzo sleep.


	159. McHanzo + Hard

     There was blood in his eyes, his vision was blurring at the edges making it hard to see, and his head was throbbing, but Hanzo didn’t care about any of that…all he cared about was the fact that McCree had been right by his side a moment before, and that he was no longer there. It was hard forcing himself back to his feet, the world going dark for a moment and he pressed a hand to his head, using the pain to jolt the world back into focus as he staggered forward.

“McCree?!” He shouted, or rather he tried to…his voice coming out as a breathy sound, and he tasted blood on his lips, and he grimaced. _This is bad…but I have to find him I have to…_ His body couldn’t match up to his determination though, and he had barely managed to move a couple more steps before his legs gave way beneath him, and there was no way for him to catch himself. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the impact only to jolt as his downwards motion was halted by hands on his shoulder, one warm the other cool, and he managed to get his eyes open once more just for a second. “Jesse...?”

“Yeah partner, it’s me…”


	160. McHanzo + Laugh

McCree was laughing…it was the only thing he could do as he stared at the destruction that his partner had just unwittingly caused, especially when he caught sight of the chagrined expression on the archer’s face as he blew his nose. It wasn’t the first time this had happened over the course of the last few days, the dragons mistaking the sneezing fits from their master as their summons, but so far Hanzo had managed to keep their outbursts under control and reign them in before they caused too much trouble. Unfortunately, this latest one had happened when they were asleep, both of them starting awake at the sound of the dragons roaring through the air, sitting up in bed just in time to see the far wall of their room transformed into a pile of rubble…which Winston was no doubt going to lecture them about before making them repair it, and McCree had found himself bursting into laughter as Hanzo got the creatures back under control…and if there was a slightly hysterical edge to it, he hoped that the archer wouldn’t notice…which considering the dark glare he was currently receiving was the case, as Hanzo was focused on something else, although when the archer spoke, he realised that might not be a good thing.

“Do not laugh at me…”


	161. McHanzo + Baby

    McCree cursed under his breath as he felt blood soaking through his shirt which he had been using to try and staunch the flow of blood from the deep laceration in Hanzo’s side, his stomach rolling slightly as he felt the piece of metal that he was trying to hold in place shifting slightly and he hastily braced himself as the archer lashed out in response to the pain.

“Hanzo! Calm down! You’ve got calm down!” He ordered, trying not to sound as frantic as he felt…a nearly impossible task at the moment because Hanzo was bleeding out in front of him and he had no way of helping him…all he could do was keep him calm and pray that the others found them in time. Feeling his partner’s struggles weakening he glanced down, blinking as he found dark eyes staring back him, hazy with pain but focusing on him for the first time since their hideout had come down around their ears. “Hey…”

“Hurts…”

“I know…”  McCree was ready to break at the quiet complaint, well aware that the archer would normally never say anything…which meant that this was bad…and he swallowed thickly, before risking moving one hand to play with Hanzo’s hair. “I know…but you’re going to be okay, so just hang on for me. All right baby? You just have to hang on…” _Please…_


	162. McHanzo + Orphan

“I’m sorry…” McCree whispered miserably as he burrowed into Hanzo’s side, tightening his hold on the archer as though afraid that he would disappear at any moment. Hanzo sighed, shaking his head at the apology even as he resumed running his fingers through the Cowboy’s hair, his other hand rising to brush away the tears that had slipped down his cheeks.

“Don’t apologise…” _Not for this,_ the archer wanted to add, but he held back the words and instead pulled his partner closer, determined to be the one to comfort him for once. It was difficult though…it had been years since he had lost his parents, and even then his life had been such that it had been hard to grieve properly, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine McCree’s pain, aware of how close he had been with his mother despite the fact that they hadn’t seen each other for years at a time. “Jesse…you know that you’re not alone…?” He asked hesitantly, not sure if that was the right thing to say…but unable to forget how the Cowboy had crumpled when the news had arrived, and the broken way he had whispered that he was alone now…deep down Hanzo knew that he had meant in terms of family, she had been the only other McCree still alive, meaning that McCree was both orphaned and the last of his name…and the archer feared that he might not realise that he had another family now.

“I know…” McCree whispered, voice thick as he curled against the older man. “I have you…


	163. McHanzo + Omega (McCree)

Hanzo could feel exhaustion beginning to tug at him, his shots a little less precise than they had been half an hour before…an hour before…how long was it since he’d started his practice? He sighed, which became a yawn and he lowered his bow, realising that he wasn’t going to achieve anything by staying here longer and he worried at his bottom lip…he wanted to go back to their quarters, but that would mean facing McCree, and he was reluctant to risk making things worse. All he had wanted to do was protect his mate, and he had been trying to convince the Cowboy to sit out the next mission as his heat was due at any time, but his people skills were still lacking…as Genji took great pleasure in reminding him…and it had dissolved into an angry shouting match, and the omega eventually pleading with him to leave, hurt in the brown eyes that had been watching him with a wariness that Hanzo had never wanted to see…and, so he had left without a word.

“Hanzo…” The quiet voice drew him out of his thoughts, and he turned, grip tightening on his bow as he found McCree hovering by the doorway, hat clutched protectively in front of him, and the archer could see the apology on the tip of his tongue…he didn’t want to hear…he didn’t think he had been wrong to try and protect his mate, the thought of McCree going into heat around their enemies making him want to snarl, but he didn’t want to fight anymore, and so he stepped forward.

“I’m sorry…”


	164. McHanzo + Youth

     McCree could tell that he was being watched, and not just by the guards that were situated around the Shimada compound…this gaze was different, hungry…powerful, and intriguing and casually he turned, trying to locate its source as excitement curled in his stomach He had been irritated when he had been forbidden from attending the talks between the gang and the Shimadas, especially as he knew it was purely down to his age and lack of experience rather than his skill…but all thoughts of the meeting were disappearing from his mind now, and they vanished completely when he finally spotted the figure partially concealed beneath one of the cherry blossom trees, and he grinned, slow and lazy as he sauntered across, one hand resting on his holster just to be on the safe side.

“Is there any reason you’re watching me?” He asked calmly, his grin growing when there was a noise that sounded like a gasp and a growl rolled into one…his mouth slowly falling open when the other person stepped out of the shadows, his gaze flicking to the hand resting on the hilt of a katana, before shifting back to the man’s face…and to the family crest on his yukata, and he sucked in a breath…a Shimada… and not just any Shimada if his guesses were correct.

“I was intrigued…I haven’t had much contact with westerners before,” the soft admission and the hint of fascination in the dark eyes had McCree’s mouth snapping shut, his hand shifting away from his weapon as he gave a cheeky bow.

“Well, Partner…I reckon I’m as western as they come.”


	165. McHanzo + Scheming Brothers

     Hanzo stirred slowly, finding himself oddly reluctant to snap awake as he normally would, and he grumbled under his breath before curling up against his pillow…his warm…breathing pillow…it took a moment for that thought to penetrate his sleepy mind, but when it did, he shot up in alarm, instinctively reaching for his bow, only to find himself brought up short by the arm that was wrapped around his waist. For a moment panic threatened to overwhelm him, but then he blinked, his mind clearing enough for him to realise that he had been sleeping practically on top of McCree…and that it was the Cowboy’s arm currently wrapped around his waist. _But how?_ As far as he could recall they had fallen asleep on opposite ends of the floor the night before, neither of them happy to be camping out in the ruined croft and both of them snapping and growling at the other because of it…so how had he ended up sleeping with him? A low chuckle from behind reminded him that they weren’t alone on this mission, a low growl escaping as he remembered just who else was with them and his eyes were dark as he turned to find his brother sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the room, smug satisfaction practically coming off him in waves.

“Genji….”


	166. McHanzo + Storm

     The first time he noticed it McCree thought that he must be imagining things, after all, there was no way a man like Hanzo would be fazed by a little storm…or maybe not so little, he was forced to admit a few minutes later when lightning struck the ground outside in the compound, the lights flickering and going out for a few minutes before the back-up generator kicked in.  When the room was flooded with light once more, he was stunned…and alarmed to see that Hanzo was clearly very bothered by the storm, hunched up in the old chair in the corner, clutching his bow across his chest so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

“Hanzo?” There was no reply, and the Cowboy’s eyes narrowed in concern…Hanzo always replied, even if it was a snappy comment or just a growl, the silence was just unnerving, and he quietly rose from the bed and padded towards the archer. He was careful to keep his movements slow and deliberate, hands in sight at all times as he wasn’t sure how trigger happy the other man might be in this state, and he was relieved when he reached Hanzo without incident, crouching down and resting his hands on his partner’s knees. “Hanzo? Darling?” That got a brief flicker, and he pressed his advantage. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“It was stormy like this…the night I…” Hanzo couldn’t finish, but McCree didn’t need him to as there was only one event that could draw that particular broken tone from the archer and he closed his eyes for a moment. _Oh, Hanzo…_


	167. McHanzo + Rumble

    McCree glanced up nervously, not liking how the building was creaking and groaning as though it was in its death throes, not that he could blame it…neither side had been holding back, and the old grocer’s shop had been the only thing that had let them hold their ground and eventually drive Talon back. However, as grateful as he was for that fact, he wasn’t keen to linger much longer…especially as there was a particularly ominous groan a moment later.

“How about we continue this outside?” He suggested turning back to Hanzo who was sat cross-legged on what had been the counter, studying the files they had managed to rescue before everything had gone to hell. “Hanzo?” The Archer glanced up with a frown, and McCree wondered just how stressed he must have sounded, but before he could worry about that or say anything else there was a dull, echoing rumble from above their heads, the creaks and groans disappearing into the sound and their eyes met for a split second before the entire building seemed to collapse in on itself.


	168. McHanzo + Skin

Hanzo bit his lip to hold back a whimper as McCree gently began to remove his prosthetics, eyes watering as the release of the pressure on his stumps sent a strange mix of pain and relief up his legs and his fingers clutched at the duvet.

“Hanzo?”

“I’m all right,” Hanzo knew that the lie was evident in his voice, a thought confirmed when he met his partner’s eyes and saw the concern in the warm eyes, and he hesitated for a moment before sighing in defeat. “It hurts.” McCree didn’t reply, hands moving to remove the cloth that protected Hanzo’s skin from being rubbed raw by the metal, hissing in sympathy when he realised that the material had shifted at some point, the skin underneath red and sore. He cursed himself for not doing something when he had seen Hanzo stumble earlier, knowing that there must’ve been something wrong for the ever graceful man to nearly fall on his face…but the gunfire hadn’t really given him a chance, and Hanzo had carried on, scrabbling up a rock face that would have fazed any normal person…but still…he lent forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the reddened skin.

“I’m sorry…”


	169. McHanzo + Christmas

“No!” Hanzo folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed as he stared at the Cowboy, already feeling himself starting to falter at the pleading expression on McCree’s face. “No…” Even he could hear the resolution slipping from his voice this time, and he clicked his tongue before glancing to the side and letting his arms fall to the side. “Fine…” _One day…One day he would learn to stand up to that expression…_

    He wasn’t given a chance to change his mind, McCree handing him the lop-sided star he had made earlier, before circling around the archer and grabbing him by the hips. A quiet protest escaped as he was lifted easily into the air, the Cowboy’s hands warm and secure on his hips reassuring him that he wasn’t going to be dropped, and he took a deep breath before nodding…letting McCree shuffle closer to the stupidly big Christmas Tree the Cowboy had somehow managed to cram into their quarters, before reaching up and carefully setting the star on top.

“There, are you happy…?” He was cut off as he was abruptly lowered to the ground and spun around, warm lips crashing into his and answering his question without a word…and he felt his earlier irritation fading away, smiling into the kiss as he stared up at the first tree they had decorated together.


	170. McHanzo + Sleepy

   McCree was unsurprised to find that Hanzo had dropped off to sleep again as he returned from the bathroom, he had only been gone a couple of minutes, but he had seen the way the archer’s eyes had been drooping even as he fought to stop McCree from leaving. A fond smile flickered across his face as he moved quietly across the room, slipping back under the covers, surprised that Hanzo hadn’t stolen his spot like he normally would…only to let out a yelp when he was suddenly accosted by his apparently not so fast asleep partner, Hanzo’s arms snaking tightly around him as the archer nuzzled against him with a sleepy growl.

“I don’t like it when you’re not here,” Hanzo’s voice was thick with sleep but much more open than it was when he was in full control of his faculties and McCree’s expression softened as he shifted so that he could pull the older man into a tight hug.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured softly in response, knowing that if this were during the day, he would have been given a dark glare for that promise…but this late at night, with sleep already threatening to pull him under once more, all he got in response was a contented hum before Hanzo relaxed against him.


	171. McHanzo + Cuddles

     McCree liked to cuddle…it had taken one mission in Siberia for Hanzo to learn that much about the Cowboy, and even now he blushed at the memory of McCree snuggling into his side, arms latching on for dear life as they tried to ride out the cold after the mission had gone to hell right from the start. Back then he hadn’t known how to react…they had been dancing around one another for months, but nothing like that…now though…he sighed in exasperation as he tried to climb out of their bed, his bladder making its demands clear, but McCree was not for letting go, and he was glad that they were in the sanctuary of their rooms so that no one else could see his predicament. With a particularly strong wrench he managed to free himself, immediately missing the warmth of McCree’s arms around him, but quick to dart out of reach as his partner reached out with a sleepy grumble.

“I will be right back you overgrown child,” he murmured reassuringly, a smile in his voice as he headed for the bathroom…realising that his speed might not just be for McCree’s sake, colour rising as he realised that at some point since that first night in Siberia he had also come to like cuddles…as long as they came from a certain Cowboy.


	172. McHanzo + Midnight

Hanzo sighed as he crept through the base, aware that he would be in trouble if he got caught …especially if Angela was the one to find him, as she had been quite explicit about what would happen to him if he got out of bed before she gave him permission. However, this was more important…he hadn’t seen McCree once since the Cowboy had hauled him back and deposited him in the infirmary, and he knew why…his partner’s panicked shout a moment before his perch had disintegrated beneath his feet the only clear memory from their mission, which was why he was currently heading for the practice grounds, aware that was where both of them went when something was bothering them. Sure, enough when he slipped inside, it was to the repetitive sound of McCree’s Peacekeeper and the sight of the innocent bots getting shattered to pieces and he sighed…leaning against the wall for support as he realised just why he had been told to stay in bed, but he only had eyes for the Cowboy, taking in the grim expression and the tension radiating from the younger man.

“Jesse!” He called softly, unsurprised when the gun was immediately levelled in his direction, merely meeting McCree’s slightly wild eyes with a calm smile. “It’s after midnight…won’t you come to bed now?”

“I…”

“I’m not going back without you,” Hanzo interrupted, seeing the refusal that was forming and letting himself sag against the wall…he might not want to worry the younger man, but he wasn’t above using it to his advantage when the other man was being an idiot, and he could see the defeated expression that appeared a moment later.

“Fine…”


	173. McHanzo + Warm

McCree cursed under his breath as he spotted lights moving along the path that led worryingly close to the small crevice they were currently using for shelter, eyes narrowing as his hand dropped down to his gun…he didn’t have a clear shot though, and the noise would carry up here and he wasn’t keen to point a shining, neon arrow in their direction…it was time for a more subtle approach. Quietly he shifted back, waiting until he was out of sight before hurrying back to their shelter, breath catching as he took in the huddled figure just inside…Hanzo was resting against the wall, wrapped up in Jesse’s serape and yet the Gunslinger could see that the other man was still shivering and for a moment McCree faltered, his plan threatening to disintegrate there and then. The archer needed to rest…but if he didn’t take care of their hunters then they were both going to be in trouble, and as much as he hated it he forced himself forward, crouching down beside Hanzo and reaching out to gently shake him, noticing that the archer was warmer to the touch than he had been…he was getting worse.

“Hanzo?” He called softly, hating himself for this, but forcing himself to shake his partner again and this time he was rewarded with a soft groan and a glimpse of Hanzo’s eyes. “Hey, darling…I need that bow of yours…” He hated the words…hated the groan of agreement…the knowledge that Hanzo was going to do it, just because he asked…hated the worrying warmth permeating the older man’s skin. _I’m sorry…_


	174. McHanzo + Comfort

     Hanzo was quiet as he led McCree into the safety of their rooms, firmly shutting the door behind them and praying that the rest of their teammates would have the sense to stay away for now, before guiding the cowboy across to the bed and pushing him down. With gentle hands, he removed his partner’s hat and serape, before moving down and carefully removing his gun and holster and setting them in their usual place on the table before crouching down in front of McCree and peering into his face.

“McCree? Jesse?” There was a flicker of awareness at the rare use of his first name, but apart from that McCree stayed still, his expression blank and eyes distant, and Hanzo sighed. In the past he would have fled from this kind of situation; he wasn’t good with emotion at the best of times, and he didn’t even want to imagine the storm raging beneath the blank mask after a mission that had hurt them all more than it should have. However, that was the past…that was the Hanzo who had lived on his own for far too long…this Hanzo though knew exactly what to do, leaning up and pulling McCree into a tight hug, for several minutes they were still and then the Cowboy’s arms tentatively crawled around him in return.


	175. McHanzo + Trauma

_Blunt force trauma…heavy blood loss…coma…._

     They were words that they had all heard before in their line of work, but McCree didn’t think he had ever heard Angela say them in such a gentle voice…and he hated it, he hated the softness, the pity in her eyes when she met his gaze…he hated the way everyone tiptoed around him because it made it all the more real. He paid her no mind when she slipped from the room, slowly turning his gaze back to the still figure on the bed, his breath catching in his throat…he didn’t need the words, or the looks to tell him that it was serious…Hanzo looked fragile in a way he never had before, his head swathed in bandages and an oxygen mask covering his bruised features, while other, smaller bumps beneath the blanket showed where other wounds lay carefully treated and bound. Cautiously, afraid of causing more harm he reached out and curled his hand around the archer’s, waiting for Hanzo’s deceptively delicate fingers to curl around his in return but the archer was still… _It’s fine…he’s just sleeping…taking the time to recover._ The words weren’t as reassuring as he had hoped they were going to be, instead all he could hear was Angela’s quiet voice and he closed his eyes, bowing his head so that he could press a gentle kiss to the hand he was clinging to, his voice cracking as he tried to call to his partner.

“Hanzo…”


	176. McHanzo + Snow

    McCree catches the first shiver that works its way through Hanzo, lips quirking slightly as he catches the archer’s failed attempts to stop the net one, and he’s already moving when Hanzo wraps his arms around himself. In a swift movement, he pounces, wrapping his serape around the shorter man, pulling him flush against his chest as he waits for the protests that he is sure are to come…after all Hanzo had been adamant that he could handle the cold and snow just fine when McCree had tried to convince him to wear thicker clothes before they left. Hanzo gives himself away when he snuggles back against him with a contented hum, twisting in the shelter of the serape to peer him up at him with a small smile, and red dusting his cheeks and the gunslinger let out a soft chuckle before pressing a chaste kiss to chilled skin.

“You could just have asked…”

“Hmm,” Hanzo hums in agreement, resting his head against McCree’s chest. “I prefer it this way.” There’s a hint of mischief in his voice and McCree growls, wrapping the material tighter around the archer and pulling his face up to kiss him fiercely, feeling Hanzo chuckling into the kiss and knowing that he has acted just the way the archer intended him to…but he can’t bring himself to care not with Hanzo pressed against him and smiling into the kiss.


	177. McHanzo + Gifts

    McCree smiled as he felt Hanzo finally beginning to stir in his arms, he’d been awake for a couple of hours already, excited by the prospect of a lazy day spoiling his partner and he’d had to fight the urge to wake the archer earlier.

“Happy birthday sweetheart,” he murmured softly as dark eyes opened, frowning as the sleepy smile that had been forming froze, the older man tensing in his arms.  “Hanzo?” His concern blossomed when Hanzo shifted closer, burying his face against him and he gently wrapped his arms tighter around the shorter man, gathering him close as he felt a tremor work its way through Hanzo’s body. “Sweetheart?”

“You remembered…” The quiet whisper stuns him for a moment, something clenching in his chest as it dawns on him that last year they hadn’t done anything for the archer’s birthday, it had been too soon after he had joined, wariness and uncertainty keeping them all circling one another…and his expression darkened as he realised that it had probably been a long time since Hanzo had been able to celebrate this day and with a sigh he tightened his hold on Hanzo. There was a pile of gifts waiting to be opened, and the others were waiting for them at breakfast, but right now he just wanted to hold him, and he buried his lips against dark tresses with a quiet whisper.

“Of course, I did…”


	178. McHanzo + Dawn

     It’s not even dawn yet, the sky is only just beginning to lighten, and for McCree it is far too early to be up and stumbling out onto the watchpoint roof, especially without a cup of coffee…but he doesn’t think about turning back, not now that his gaze has landed on the huddled figure sitting far too close to the edge for comfort.

“Hanzo? Darling?” There’s only the faintest movement to show that the archer has heard his words, but it’s enough to give him the courage to approach, footsteps soft and movements cautious as he settles down beside Hanzo when he reaches him. “What are you doing out here?” He’s not surprised when he doesn’t get an answer, however, he jolts in surprise when Hanzo abruptly slumps against him…although he’s quick to react, wrapping an arm around the shorter man and pulling him close, eyes narrowing when the archer’s head falls against his shoulder with a sound that is suspiciously close to a sob. He wants to ask, to push for an answer, but to be honest, he can guess…it’s rare for them to get through a night without one of them having a bad dream, and so he settles in to wait, holding Hanzo close and letting his gaze drift to the horizon as he waits for dawn.


	179. McHanzo + Cats

McCree had been a little nervous when he had first bought the tiny, ginger bundle back to their quarters, not sure how the archer was going to react, although there was no way he was going to leave the kitten to wander the base and possibly starve to death. Hanzo hadn’t seemed too impressed with the addition to their family, but he hadn’t spoken against it, and McCree had decided that was good enough…for now, …although it didn’t stop him from worrying when he was sent on a mission, leaving Hanzo alone to care for the kitten. Apparently, he needn’t have worried…he’d arrived home, earlier than expected and walked into their quarters to find Hanzo curled up asleep on the bed, the kitten curled on top of him, both of them oblivious to his entrance as they soaked up the rare winter warmth from the sunlight hitting the bed. He chuckled at the sight of them, the noise rising them both and his laughter grew when they stretched in unison, soft noises escaping them both as they sat up and stared at him with matching narrowed eyes and he shook his head helplessly…cats…all he could think about was the similarities between the two of them, stuck with the mental image of Hanzo with cat ears and his chuckles deepened, even as dark eyes began to glint dangerously.

“What’s so funny…?”


	180. McHanzo + Please

   They had won. McCree was still slightly stunned at that fact even as he moved across to check on the archer, eyes narrowing as he took in the bruises and scrapes covering Hanzo, although he knew that it could have been much worse…fear still churning beneath the surface as he remembered the sight of the older man disappearing beneath a pile of rubble, momentarily distracted by having to clear a path for McCree, and it had felt like he couldn’t breathe properly until the older man had finally emerged a few minutes later, filthy and battered, but alive.

“You’re okay…” Not caring that the others were there watching them, McCree dragged Hanzo into a relieved hug, closing his eyes with a sigh when the older man made no effort to push him away, and from the faint tremors wracking his body it seemed as though Hanzo needed the comfort just as much as he did. Exhaling shakily, he pulled back, just enough to let him see Hanzo’s face, taking in the weariness…the relief…and he pressed a quick kiss to a bruised cheek, before adding shakily. “I’ll have that drink now please…”


	181. McHanzo + Really

“Fool,” Hanzo’s harsh tone was completely at odds with the concerned expression on his face as he strode into the infirmary, dark eyes immediately focusing on the bandages wrapped around McCree’s torso, guilt and anger warring with the concern. “What were you thinking?!”

“Hanzo…”

“You…” Hanzo cut his partner off with a growl, moving to the side of the bed, eyes still lingering on the other’s injuries…and now guilt was the dominant expression as he reached out with a trembling hand, only to abort the movement mid-air, almost as though he was afraid that McCree would shatter at the slightest touch. “You really…” _You really scared me this time…_ McCree heard the unspoken words loud and clear, long used to interpreting what Hanzo didn’t say and he sighed, reaching out to grab the hand that was still frozen in mid-air, twining their fingers together and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Hanzo’s hand.

“I’m fine sweetheart, I’m fine....”


	182. McHanzo + Plants

McCree sighed with relief as he stepped out onto the roof of the command centre, eyes falling on Hanzo who was sat cross-legged in the centre of the small garden that the archer had carefully been cultivating for the past few months. Normally that pose would mean Hanzo was meditating and the cowboy would settle quietly to wait, but the tension in his partner’s back and the way his hands were clenching and unclenching in his lap told him that the other man told him that wasn’t the case and he worried at his lip for a moment before moving closer. The archer had been out of sorts all morning, which was why McCree hadn’t complained when he’d slipped away to his garden, hoping that meditation or even just tending to his plants would help calm him…but now he had a feeling that was a mistake, especially when Hanzo remained completely silent as he settled down beside him, close enough for their knees to touch.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked softly, trying to gauge the expression on the archer’s face, but there were too many emotions for him to make sense of…and so he waited, half expecting a rebuttal, only to be caught by surprise when Hanzo slumped against him, recovering quickly and pulling the older man into a half hug. “Hanzo?”

“It’s today…it’s the anniversary of when I tried to kill Genji…”


	183. McHanzo + Silence

    It was silent. Not the quiet that usually came before McCree tumbled out of bed, grumbling about how early it was and acting more like a bear than a man until he got his coffee…or the quiet late at night when the Cowboy was fast asleep beside him, still and quiet for once, giving Hanzo a chance to study him in peace and marvel that this man had chosen him. Or even the tense silence that followed their infrequent arguments, the awkward lack of noise, with both of them missing the other, but reluctant to be the one to make the first move…although inevitably one of them would. No, it was the silence that followed death, that came with a chill in the air…an emptiness even though Hanzo was still there, still living in their quarters, Jesse’s items still scattered everywhere because he didn’t have the heart to even begin to pack them away…to face the fact that McCree was gone, fallen, lost to a war that he no longer had the heart to fight. It was a silence that once upon a time, he could have endured, that he had once chosen to exist in…but now settled over him, cutting deep through skin and bone, until it was more than he could bear.


	184. McHanzo + Domestic

     McCree lived for mornings like this, quiet ones with no missions or briefings looming over their heads when he could stumble through to the kitchen at a decent hour to find Hanzo quietly working to make their breakfast. There would always be coffee waiting for him, strong and black just the way he loved it, and he would gulp it down, scalding his tongue more often than not and ignoring the disgusted glance from the archer who had never developed a taste for the beverage. However, he never took the expression to heart, because as soon as it was gone and he was starting to feel more alive he would move across to his partner, draping himself over the shorter man despite the faux protest…grinning when Hanzo would tilt his head just enough to welcome a small kiss, the slightest bump of their noses, before sinking back against him.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” McCree grinned, nuzzling his nose into dark hair, before pressing butterfly kisses to the back of Hanzo’s neck and down his shoulder…waiting for the slight tensing that was his only warning before the spatula would shoot towards him at speed, a quick lunge backwards saving him, and a warm chuckle on his lips.


	185. McHanzo + Flirt

    Hanzo knew that McCree was a terrible flirt, the man had been like that from before they had met…and at the start, it had driven him up the wall, partly because he had never known how to reply, or how seriously to take the ridiculous comments that left the Cowboy’s lips at times. However, with time, it had become a trait that he found endearing…unless it was directed at someone else, like it was right now, and his eyes narrowed as he watched the hotel receptionists blossoming under his partner’s attention, a blush decorating her cheeks. He knew that it was meaningless, that it was part of the job…it didn’t stop the jealousy that was beginning to burn in his chest, and he fidgeted, trying to calm himself and stop himself from doing anything foolish…like marching up and showing her that McCree was taken.

    Apparently, he hadn’t been able to hide it as well as he’d hoped, because as soon as they were out of sight of the reception, McCree had pushed him against the wall, looming over him with narrowed eyes, although the finger that had tapped him on the nose had been gentle.

“I’m yours, sweetheart, don’t forget that.”


	186. McHanzo + Drunk

      Hanzo had no idea why he had been volunteered to haul a drunk McCree back to his quarters, or maybe he had volunteered himself because the thought of the Cowboy wandering around in a vulnerable state even in the safety of the base left him an unpleasant feeling. Still, he was beginning to regret it because it turned out that McCree was quite talkative, even more than normal when drunk, and that he had zero self-control…with both, his words and hands, which kept trying to wander and Hanzo was struggling to remind himself that wasn’t a good thing…realising that there was a definite reason why he had volunteered to do this.

“But…I love you,” McCree whined, pouting after Hanzo had swatted his hand away again…the archer taking a deep breath as he tried to get the door to the Cowboy’s quarters open, those words washing over him with a bittersweet feeling…if he was honest, he had been waiting for them, hoping for them, but not like this and he exhaled softly before glancing into McCree’s watery eyes.

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and maybe,” Hanzo scolded softly, allowing himself to lean in and steal a quick, chaste kiss and nothing else, pulling back when McCree tried to deepen the kiss. _Please, let this be more than the alcohol talking…_


	187. McHanzo + Secret

“Sweetheart, are you going to tell me why you’re so keen on keeping this secret?” McCree asked cautiously, running his fingers through dark hair, feeling the tension that met his question…but there was no way he was going to let the topic drop. It wasn’t so much the fact that Hanzo didn’t want to share their relationship that bothered him because he knew how private the older man was, just the lengths he seemed willing to go to just to keep it hidden. He was caught by surprise when the archer twisted around in his arms, pressing his face against McCree’s chest to hide his expression, fingers clutching at him with quiet desperation. “Hanzo?”

“I don’t want it to disappear…” Hanzo admitted softly, and McCree’s expression softened, they were both alike in the fact that whenever something good happened, they always waited for the other shoe to drop…but the archer had it worse, and he closed his eyes as he felt Hanzo clinging even tighter.

“It won’t…I’m not going anywhere.” _Not without you…_


	188. McHanzo + Family

    McCree shot a worried glance across at Hanzo, noting that the older man was tense, fingers clenching tighter and tighter against his bow before finally stepping into the shrine. When the archer had first mentioned visiting the Shimada shrine to pay his respects and to introduce McCree to his family, McCree had been reluctant, and expecting to be completely out of place…instead he found himself feeling neutral about the place, while Hanzo looked ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

“Hanzo?” He murmured, sensing that now wasn’t the time for one of his nicknames, closing the distance between them and brushes his fingers against Hanzo’s when he caught the tense, unhappy expression on his partner’s face as he glanced around. “What…?”

“Let’s go…” Hanzo whispered dark eyes pained as he turned to look at the younger man. “I shouldn’t have come back here…”


	189. McHanzo + Therapy

    McCree let out a sigh of relief when he slipped back into their quarters, firmly shutting the door behind him and locking it, fairly sure that Mercy or Winston would come hunting for him sooner or later and keen to put it off for as long as possible. He knew that they needed UN support if they wanted to get Overwatch back to a position where it could really be useful, he just didn’t appreciate the fact that included endless assessments and meetings with military therapists…he doubted that there was anyone on the base who was going to pass those meetings with flying colours, and the thought that might be seen as a weakness made him growl…they might be ragged and a little messed up, but they worked because of that, and he didn’t want to change that. He wouldn’t change that. Besides…he stepped through into the bedroom and smiled, realising that Hanzo who was still recovering from their last mission had dozed off waiting for him and tiptoeing across to join him…he had his own reason for keeping going, for getting stronger and it had nothing to do with the fancy words the doctor had been throwing around.


	190. McHanzo + Forgive

McCree barely stirred as he heard Genji slipping out of the room, unable to summon even a flicker of surprise at the fact that he had finally been left on his own…someone had been with him constantly since…since… He trembled, still unable to think it, even though the fact that he was alone in their shared quarters made it impossible to escape the truth and his fingers curled tighter around the golden ribbon that he hadn’t let go of once since Genji had laid it in his hand.

“Hanzo…. Hanzo,” he whispered, voice little more than a broken croak after hours of weeping and screaming his grief, as though that would do anything to ease the storm in his chest. His breath caught for a moment, waiting for a response that was never going to come, and fresh tears spilt down his cheeks as he buried his face against the ribbon. “Please forgive me…” _Forgive me for not being there, for being too slow…for letting go…_


	191. McHanzo + Soul

Hanzo’s gaze was intent as he studied McCree’s sleeping face, his fingers entwined with the gunslinger’s and his grip tightening as he took in the lingering frown and the evidence of the tears that had been shed earlier that day. Those were bad enough to see, worse were the bandages covering far too much of McCree’s body and his expression darkened… _Jesse…_ They both lived every day with the knowledge that the past could come back and bite them at any point, but it was completely different to have it happen, and he didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of McCree on his knees, begging his old gang to kill him and spare Hanzo.

“Fool…” He whispered, leaning in to study the bruised face, fingers ghosting the bandages covering the spot where a bullet had grazed him…the the same bullet that had been meant to kill him before McCree had foolishly lunged into its path. “Your life is worth more than mine.” _Your soul isn’t stained in the same way…_


	192. McHanzo + Loneliness

    McCree knew that he was being foolish, but that knowledge didn’t do anything to ease the loneliness that had settled in after Hanzo had been called away to deal with a Talon group attempting to re-establish the Shimada-gumi in Hanamura. It wasn’t the fact that he’d been left behind, that had happened often enough, it was just the way of things in an organisation that didn’t have enough members and needed to keep some in reserve…but to be called away a week before Christmas? The base was as festive as they could make, and everyone still on base was really get in the spirit of things…he didn’t think Reinhardt had stopped singing carols once since the start of the month…but without Hanzo there to mock his terrible Christmas jumpers, or to just to cuddle within the evenings, McCree was finding it hard to join in.

“Looking at you, anyone would think someone had died.” The soft voice was laden with affection, and McCree was already halfway across the room, arms spread to engulf the archer before he even managed to convince his voice to work.

“Hanzo…”


	193. McHanzo + Trauma

    The world was still moving around him, he knew that much…but it was all a blur to him, garbled words that never quite made sense to him, people coming and going, gentle touches that made him flinch…none of it made sense, he didn’t want it to make sense, because then he would have to confront the truth that he knew was hovering just behind the blur.

“Hanzo…” Unfortunately, that was one voice that he had never learned to ignore, and slowly he blinked, the world coming into focus for a moment and he leant back as he realised that his brother was crouched in front of him. He tried to reply, he really did…but the words wouldn’t come, and after a moment he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head from side to side…he didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to move…he didn’t want to think. “Hanzo…brother, you can’t keep doing this. Jesse wouldn’t want you to…” He had known that it was only a matter of time before someone said that name, but he wasn’t ready and his breath caught in his throat, a low noise that was halfway between a sob and a groan slipping free and he shook his head.

“D…” _Don’t…Don’t say his name…don’t say…_

“Jesse’s gone Hanzo…and we can’t lose you too, I can’t lose you…”


	194. McHanzo + Laugh

“He dyed my hair again! I can understand doing it when we were younger, but we’re grown men, or at least I am and…”

    Hanzo blinked, his rant cut off mid-word as McCree doubled over laughing, the brief spark of irritation at being mocked fading as the sound wrapped around him. It was warm and soft, just like the southern drawl he’d come to love so much, and he felt his lips twitching up in response to the laughter, silently adding the sound to his list of favourite things. Unfortunately, the noise was like a siren call, attracting the attention of the others and Hanzo’s amusement died as he heard a snicker from the doorway, lifting his head to find Tracer and Hana in the doorway and staring at his hair with wide-eyes, hands barely hiding their laughter and he growled. “McCree…help me!”


	195. McHanzo + Morning

    Hanzo had never been one for sleeping in, too many years on the move and having to sleep with one eye open had left him unable to sleep longer than necessary, something that set him at odds with McCree who loved sleep…or more correctly, loved sleeping curled around him for as long as possible. However, there were some mornings like this one where he would wake pressed against McCree’s chest, the gunslinger’s breath warm against the side of his neck and unable or rather unwilling to move. It was these mornings where he would roll over, careful not to disturb McCree and just lay there, studying his partner’s face with soft eyes. Eventually, he would move, reaching up with gentle fingers to trace McCree’s face, trailing across familiar scars and weathered skin, waiting patiently until McCree would stir with a sleepy grumble, tawny eyes creeping open and a soft grin appearing as soon as he spotted Hanzo. It was these mornings when any lingering doubts would fade away, and he would let McCree gather him close, warm lips pressing against the top his head as they curled together once more, cuddling closer until it was hard to tell where one ended, and the other began.


	196. McHanzo + Night

    McCree pauses for a moment in the kitchen doorway, sighing as he takes in the tense set to Hanzo’s shoulders and the exhaustion written across his partner’s face, unsurprised to see the cup of sake he’s nursing. It’s always the same on nights like this when they’ve come back from a mission a little more bruised and battered than they should have. Quietly he steps into the room, moving across to Hanzo and slipping his arms around him from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to dark hair, before letting his head fall against the archer’s.

“Sweetheart, are you coming back to bed?” His voice is soft, almost cautious…some nights it’s easy to tempt Hanzo away from the thoughts and memories haunting him as the adrenaline of battle fades, other nights it can be a fight. Silence reigns for a few minutes, but eventually Hanzo releases a shuddering breath before sinking back against him and nodding wordlessly, letting McCree push the cup of sake away and ease him to his feet…melting against the gunslinger’s side when McCree wraps an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get some sleep, things will look better in the morning.”


	197. McHanzo + Fate

     It had been McCree who had shown him that a man could be more than his fate, bargaining into his life with a larger than life heart and a warmth that had burnt through his barriers as though they had never existed. It was the gunslinger, holding him through the nights when the past rose up and threatened to swallow him, who whispered of dreams and hopes for the future that he had thought lost the moment he had lifted his blade against his brother. It was McCree who had slipped the ring onto his finger, tawny eyes shimmering with such joy that it had taken his breath away, who had given him a name and a life that he had never dared believe he could have. It was McCree, russet hair now heavily streaked with grey, but his heart and soul as young as ever who stepped in the path of the attack meant for him…who shielded him from a moment of distraction that would have cost him his life. It was his husband, fading in his arms with blood on his lips, who had reached up to cup his face with trembling fingers, a smile quirking his lips as he whispered his last words for Hanzo alone to hear.

“This was the fate I chose, …and I have no regrets.”


	198. McHanzo + Sweet Tooth

“Hanzo! Have you seen the…?” McCree trailed off as he stepped into the living room, eyes drawn to the guilty expression on his partner’s face even before he noted the cream on Hanzo’s lip and the nearly empty plate he was cradling in his lap. _I should have known,_ he thought with a sigh that turned into a fond grin as Hanzo hastily scooped up the last of the cake before McCree could try and steal it. “That sweet tooth is going to be the death of you,” McCree teased as he moved across, gently tugging the plate out of Hanzo’s hands and setting it aside before leaning in to swipe his tongue over the cream on his partner’s face, barely getting a chance to savour the taste before Hanzo had leant up to kiss him, plundering his mouth for even that scrap of the cake. “And you’re going to be the death of me.”


	199. McHanzo + Poison

“Easy Sweetheart,” McCree soothed, voice cracking a little as he ran the damp cloth Angela had passed him over Hanzo’s skin, wiping away the grime of battle and the sweat that was beaded against his overheated skin. Hanzo whimpered at the lightest touch making it hard for him to continue, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue, his metallic fingers gently brushing his partner’s hair away from his face as he tossed and turned restlessly. “Doc, you’ve got to do something,” he pleaded as he glanced up at Mercy who was pouring over test results, forehead creased with concern as she looked at them, her gaze lingering on Hanzo when the archer began to murmur under his breath, pleading for help, for forgiveness and McCree felt his heart clench at the sound. “Doc…”

“I need more time, whatever poison they gave him isn’t in my records,” she sounded frustrated, hands clenching against the desk and it was that which helped McCree hold back the urge to snap at her, his expression tight as he turned back to his partner.

“Do you hear that sweetheart? You just have to hold on a little bit longer for us…just a little bit more.”

_Please…_


	200. McHanzo + Undercut

     McCree blinked and then blinked again, half wondering if the sight in front of his eyes was the product of the evenings drinking, but the fingers that brushed against his cheek were warm and real, but it was the worried expression on Hanzo’s face that drew his attention.

“Do you like it?” Hanzo shifted uneasily, reaching up to ghost his fingers along his new undercut as he looked down at his feet. “It will grow back with time, I can…” McCree scowled, the pleasure of his drunken buzz fading at the self-conscious tone and he hastily abandoned his seat and drink, moving across to take his partner by the shoulders.

“It’s not a question of what I like,” he murmured softly, lifting one hand so that he could tilt Hanzo’s head up so that he could meet his gaze, adopting a more serious tone. “Do you like it?” It took a moment, but Hanzo finally gave a tiny nod, almost as though he was afraid of how McCree was going to react and tawny eyes softened at the sight, fingers moving to cup Hanzo’s cheek. “Then I like it too,” he murmured leaning in to brush his lips over the shaven hair, smiling as Hanzo cautiously melted against him.


	201. McHanzo + Cake

“What happened in here?” Hanzo demanded as he stepped into the kitchen, arching an eyebrow when McCree shifted to stand in front of the mess as though that would help, especially when he was covered in flour and goodness knows what else. “Jesse?” Apparently, McCree realised that he wasn’t going to get away with hiding this, shoulders slumping in defeat as he offered the archer an apologetic grin.

“I was trying to make you a cake,” he explained, grimacing as he stepped aside to gesture at the collapsed effort sat behind him on the counter. “You looked so happy eating that strawberry one at Christmas…but…” Hanzo’s expression softened, his partner had many talents, but cooking was not one of them, but just the fact that he had tried…several times if the mess was anything to go by, warmed him and he smiled as he stepped further into the kitchen.

“How about we clean this mess up and then I’ll help you?”


	202. McHanzo + Resolution

    McCree smiled as they pulled apart, lips warm and eyes bright as he glanced up at the fireworks still lighting up the sky above the base. It had been a long time since he’d had someone to spend New Year’s with, a long time since there had been someone willing to kiss him beneath the dancing lights and he couldn’t help but draw Hanzo closer, as though frightened that he might disappear if he blinked.

“Jesse?” Hanzo queried peering up at him, and McCree couldn’t help but wonder what his expression must be showing now because Hanzo’s eyes darkened for a moment before he leant up to press a gentle kiss to the underside of McCree’s chin. “Did you make a New Year’s resolution?”

“I did,” he murmured, tilting his head to meet Hanzo’s lips, returning the kiss before pulling back with a smile. “To hold onto you with everything I have.”


	203. McHanzo + Binge

    McCree couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle as Hanzo curled against him, one hand rubbing against his stomach as he grumbled softly, although he hastily schooled his expression into one of sympathy when his partner tilted his head to look at him.

“It doesn’t work when I heard you laugh a moment ago,” Hanzo pointed out, eyes narrowing before he groaned as his stomach gurgled loudly and he slumped back against the gunslinger with a defeated sigh, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ when McCree gently rubbed circles against his stomach. Unable to muster any real irritation when McCree chuckled again, especially when it was followed with lips pressing gently against his temple…. although he bristled slightly at the teasing words that followed.

“I told you not to binge on that cake, it would have waited.”

“You’re just saying that because you wanted to steal some.”


	204. McHanzo + Late

   McCree sighed as he spied Hanzo slipping away as everyone gathered around him and Tracer, relieved by their return after their last mission had overrun by nearly a week, and their communications had been cut off. Quietly excusing himself and promising to be there for the debriefing he took after his partner, not trying to catch up because he knew exactly where Hanzo would go, and sure enough, when he stepped out onto the balcony around the communication tower, it was to find the archer leaning against the railing.

“Hanzo…” He didn’t have a chance to say anything else before Hanzo turned and lunged at him, and for a wild moment, McCree thought he was about to get punched, but instead he found himself being yanked into a tight hug as Hanzo buried his face into his shoulder. “Sweetheart?”

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry,” McCree murmured, hearing the strain in Hanzo’s voice and leaning down to press his lips to the top of his partner’s head. “But I’m home now.”


	205. McHanzo + Honey

    Hanzo hums gratefully as McCree handed him a steaming cup of tea, curling his fingers tightly around it as he was wracked with another bout of coffee, willingly letting his partner settle down beside him and support his weight until the fit passes. He hates being ill with a passion, but this is the first time in years that he’s actually had someone around to take of him and he offers McCree a small smile before straightening and sipping the tea, eyes widening at the taste.

“It’s sweet.”

“I added honey,” McCree replies easily, knowing that it’s not a complaint as Hanzo has the worst sweet tooth of anyone he’s ever met. Carefully wrapping an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, he let his fingers brush against the archer’s throat, frowning as he realises there is a slight wheeze to each breath, and adding softly. “I thought it would help with that sore throat of yours...since you won’t let me take you to Angela.”


	206. McHanzo + Conservation

“We’re not having this conversation now,” Hanzo growled, barely looking at McCree and for a moment the gunslinger is sorely tempted to hit the other man. They had been dancing around one another ever since the New Year when McCree had finally given in to temptation and kissed the other man as the clock struck twelve. If it had just been him then he would have let it slide, another mistake to be brushed under the carpet, but Hanzo had responded, and neither of them had been drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, and yet every time he tried to bring up the topic he found himself being shut down. Normally those words would be enough to make him walk away with a huff, but he’d had enough, stepping forward into Hanzo’s space and tugging him closer so that he can kiss him fiercely. Anger, desperation, hope he pours into all into that one kiss, determined that this is going to be last his attempt and slowly, tentatively he feels the other man responding.


	207. McHanzo + Close

    It’s been a long time since McCree has felt this far out of his depth, but right now it’s taking everything he has not to panic because Hanzo is falling apart in his arms and he doesn’t know how to stop it. Their escape had gone to hell in a handbasket and Hanzo had been caught up in the melee, wielding his bow like a sword to try and clear a path for them, and it had been his quick actions…lunging forward to force the tip into one assailant’s chest that had saved McCree’s neck. What he hadn’t been prepared for was Hanzo freezing as blood splattered across his hands and face, eyes wide with horror, or that he’d had to literally drag his partner away, feeling the tremors that had begun to wrack him a moment later. Hanzo still hadn’t said a word, and in the end, McCree had yanked them into a side-alley, praying that pursuit was far enough behind to give him time to deal with this, and yet nothing he did seemed to be reaching Hanzo and time was running out. Helpless washed over him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he did the only thing he could and gathered Hanzo as close as he could, arms tight around him as he murmured reassurances and hoped that the archer would come back to him.


	208. McHanzo + Mourning

   It was too much stepping back into their quarters for the first time since McCree had died. Even the air itself was filled with his partner’s presence, the lingering smell of cinnamon of cigarillo smoke that had once felt like home now another hammer blow against his broken heart. Everywhere he looked was traces of their life together, the stain just beneath his feet where McCree had been overconfident in his balancing skills when he’d bought them breakfast in bed. The little trinkets that cluttered every surface, mementos of missions they’d survived together and places they’d visited on their rare downtime, the ugly Christmas jumper that his husband had insisted on framing to commemorate their first Christmas as a married couple, the raggedy books that had gone around the world shoved in the gunslinger’s bag. It was too much, too many memories and feelings, and the knowledge that the most important thing that made this room home was never coming back had him stumbling backwards with a broken sob.


	209. McHanzo + Captured

“This is what you call ‘going to plan’?” Hanzo asked through clenched teeth, hands tightening in the material of his gi to stop himself from lashing out as McCree pressed harder on his side, pain blurring his vision for a moment but not before he caught the strained expression on his partner’s face. Blindly he reached out, fingers finding the edge of McCree’s serape and clinging on, trying to convey that it wasn’t the gunslinger's fault even as he fought to breathe through the pain.

“Just a slight hiccup,” McCree replied after a moment, chuckling shakily as he tried to lighten the mood, fingers faltering for a moment as he stared down at the blood staining his skin. “Nothing to worry about…” His voice was weak to his own ears as he lifted his head to meet Hanzo’s gaze, trying not to focus on the fact that they were caged and weaponless, their every movement no doubt being watched, but his expression must have faltered because Hanzo’s expression softened and he offered his own weak attempt at humour.

“Good, then you can explain this to Winston I …when we get back.”


	210. McHanzo + Arachnophobia

“Darling I’m h…” McCree found himself trailing off, wide eyes taking in the arrows that seemed to be buried in nearly every surface of their room, a hand immediately dropping to his gun before he spotted the figure huddled on the bed. “Hanzo? What happened? Were you attacked?” It shouldn’t have been possible in the safety of the base especially with Winston’s recent updates to the security system, but it wouldn’t be the first time they’d come up against someone wily enough to get around Athena. Hanzo jumps at the sound of his voice, but there is something sheepish about his partner’s expression that has him slowly pulling his fingers away from his gun, blinking at the sight of colour seeping into Hanzo’s cheeks as the other man glances away.

“No…there was a spider.”


	211. McHanzo + Jump Rope

“…and then we can stop by…” McCree trailed off as he realised that Hanzo wasn’t paying attention to him, not an unusual situation when he started rambling, but this time the archer’s gaze was fixated on the far side of the road, and McCree frowned before following his gaze. A small group of local children had set up camp on the far side of the street out of the way of the traffic and passer-by’s, and they were gathered around a trio who were playing with a raggedy, homemade jump rope and he smiled softly, remembering doing the same when he was younger…although it had usually ended with someone tied up in the rope a short while later. Still, he can’t understand what’s so fascinating about it, and he turned back to Hanzo who was still watching with a hint of longing, or maybe it was melancholy in the small quirk of his lips. “Hanzo? Sweetheart?”

“Genji always wanted to play games like that,” Hanzo murmured softly, and McCree sighed as he reached down to grasp his partner’s hand, squeezing slightly and earning a small smile from the archer. “I always promised I would, but there was always something else to do…lessons, clan business and rules that I should have bent. I wish that I had given him a childhood like that.”


	212. McHanzo + Boyfriend

     McCree blinked as a weight settled against his front, tearing his eyes away from the movie they were watching in the common room to find Hanzo practically curled in his lap, fingers clutching at his shirt as though to make sure that he couldn’t go anywhere. He certainly had no protests about their new position, it had been Hanzo who had been reluctant to share the shift in their relationship with the rest of the team before now, old habits and the fact that he was a naturally private person making it hard for him to open up.

“Hanzo?” He asked softly, asking for confirmation, for permission…hell he didn’t know what he was asking for, but the tiny nod and the way Hanzo’s fingers tightened in his shirt was enough of an answer, and he willingly gathered Hanzo closer and dropped a kiss against dark hair. Now that he was paying attention he realised that his partner was trembling slightly, and he lifted his head, glancing around to see how the others had reacted, but whilst they were the centre of attention there was no surprise on their teammates faces, just amusement and he had a feeling that they were saying ‘finally’…and glancing down at the dark head buried against his chest he had to admit that they were right.


	213. McHanzo + Chocolate

“Did Genji tell you…?” Hanzo asked softly, lifting his head from where it had been resting over McCree’s heart to look at his partner. He had woken to find the end of his bed piled high with boxes of chocolates, and while he certainly wasn’t complaining…a strange warmth in his chest that kept making him what to blush.... he hadn’t expected it, even if they were rarely apart these days and he couldn’t help but question it. McCree doesn’t look offended though, tawny eyes soft as he reaches up to tangle his fingers in Hanzo’s hair before leaning up to steal a quick kiss.

“You’ve forgotten,” he murmured, pulling away with a soft grin that tugs at Hanzo’s heart. “I’ve seen what you’re like with cake…I know all about your sweet tooth, sweetheart.” Hanzo does blush then, both at the nickname and the fondness in the soft drawl, and he can’t help but cling to McCree as this time he’s the one who leans in for a kiss.

“Thank you.”


	214. McHanzo + Birthday

    Hanzo scowled down at the neatly-wrapped present in his hands, fingers curling against it, nerves making his stomach churn and he nearly turns and walks away, more certain than ever that this was a stupid idea. However, his intention to flee was ruined by the fact that when he turned he collided with a warm figure, a muffled curse in an alarmingly familiar voice making him swallow, slowly lifting his head to find McCree staring down at him with curious eyes…eyes that dart down to the present in his hand before he can hide it.

“Is that…?”

“Happy Birthday.” Hanzo cuts him off, fairly sure his cheeks must be stained red by now as he shoves the present at the gunslinger, intending to escape while McCree is distracted. McCree, it seems has other ideas, moving to block his path, even while he unwraps the present with a gentleness that the archer has rarely seen from him. “It’s nothing much…” He trails off helplessly when McCree peels back the last of the paper to reveal two plain photo frames, one holding an old Overwatch picture that he had asked Ana to help him find, and one with the new Overwatch, complete with the two of them standing side by side in the centre…in his mind it’s not enough…but the feeling of McCree’s arms around him a moment later, the warmth of the other man pressed against him, tells him that maybe it is.


	215. McHanzo + Miss

McCree takes a brief second to thank his lucky stars for his reflexes, eyes narrowed as he takes in the arrow in the man’s shoulder…an arrow that should have killed him but hadn’t, and he slowly lowered his gun once he was certain that the other man wasn’t getting up again, before turning his eyes to the distant figure of his partner hovering on the corner of the building.

“Hanzo…”

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo cuts him off, voice sharp, not that McCree had really known what to say; he couldn’t remember the last time Hanzo had missed a shot, in either the training range or the field. “It won’t happen again.” There’s tension in Hanzo’s voice that tells him that it’s something more, but he knows better than to push the issue right now, and he just hopes that the stubborn man will open up to him later.


	216. McHanzo + Old

    Hanzo hummed softly under his breath as he woke to the sensation of chapped lips against his skin, smiling at the familiar feel of McCree’s beard tickling him, opening his eyes just as his husband kisses the crow’s feet around his eyes. A small part of him wants to grimace at the reminder of his age, but it’s hard to worry about it when McCree pulls back to look at him with the same affection and devotion he always had, and his expression softens, reaching up to brush his fingers through silvery hair.

“You’re getting old…” He teases softly, tugging at the silvery locks that now matched his, wrinkling his nose when McCree dips his head to kiss him softly on the end of the nose. “Jesse…”

“We’re getting old,” McCree corrects him, moving down to capture Hanzo’s lips with a smile, taking away any sting that might have remained in the words, tilting his head with a playful expression. “But you still love me, don’t you?”

“Maybe...”

“HANZO!”


	217. McHanzo + Stories

    McCree took a sip of sake, grimacing at the taste although he hastily hid the expression before Hanzo could see it, although he had a feeling that the sharp-eyed archer had caught it anyway. A suspicion confirmed a moment later when Hanzo laughed softly, reaching out to steal the cup from him before handing over the flash of whiskey he had commandeered earlier, and McCree colours slightly before gratefully taking it and taking a large sip of his preferred drink.

“I believe it is your turn to entertain me tonight, Cowman,” Hanzo teases, and McCree snorts and nearly chokes on his drink, alcohol-hazed mind immediately heading south for a moment before he catches the expectant expression on Hanzo’s face and his mind catches up with reality. These nights, just the two of them holing up in their rooms to drink and share stories, tales of life on the run, of their childhood, had become a tradition at some point…and yet even as he casts around for a new story to tell, he can’t stop his gaze from lingering on Hanzo, longing for more, but not yet brave enough to bridge that gap even with whiskey warming him.


	218. McHanzo + A New Horse

     It’s an uncomfortable feeling having a blindfold over his eyes, stopping him from using the skills that have kept him alive for so long and bringing back less pleasant memories of being captured in the past. However, he endures it because Hanzo’s fingers are warm and firm against his wrist, the archer’s quiet voice giving him directions and warning him of the slightest hazard, and it occurs to him that if he had eventually lost his sight to Dead-eye, then he would have been in the best hands possible. It’s a moot point now though, with the New Overwatch going strong and growing by the day they had made the decision to retire…mostly…occasionally one of them would get the itch to do something more and tag along on a mission.

“Here,” Hanzo’s voice draws him back to the present and he lets the archer pull him to a halt, frowning as a familiar scent tickles his nose, sounds that he hasn’t heard for years making his eyes widen behind the material covering his eyes. He blinks, startled when the blindfold disappears a moment later and it takes him a few seconds to adjust, but when he does it’s to find himself standing in the stables they had found down the road from their new home…his eyes immediately drawn to the bay standing tied up in front of them, and he itches to reach out, but instead, he glanced at Hanzo in question, taking in the soft smile and understanding gaze. “I remember you telling me about the horse you had years ago, and since we have the space…” McCree cuts off the rest of the words by sweeping him into a tight hug, unable to believe that the archer had recalled a rambling conversation from years ago, warmth spreading through him as he kisses his husband, the horse whickering softly behind them.


	219. McHanzo + Dragons

Hanzo starts slightly when warm arms creep around him from behind, but he doesn’t fight when McCree tugs him backwards until he’s pressed against his chest, sighing softly when his partner’s human hand reaches across to gently stroke along his tattooed arm. Of course, he had noticed the lingering glow and the way that Hanzo had been cradling it close, he’s too observant not to, especially when it comes to Hanzo, and he lets McCree gently tangle their fingers together.

“What happened?”

“The Dragons grow tired of my nightmares, of my guilt,” Hanzo’s voice is soft, barely a whisper, but he knows that McCree heard him when the arms around him tighten and it gives him the courage to add quietly.  “I fear that one day they will leave me.” It’s a fear that cuts deep, almost as deep as his fear of losing the man holding him…he could probably survive the former, although his heart aches at losing the companions that have been with him since childhood, he has no idea how to stop them…the guilt never goes away, not for long and he can’t blame them for wanting to escape, and he jumps when warm lips press against the top of his shoulder, realising that he must’ve been speaking aloud when McCree speaks again, voice a soft growl against his skin.

“We’ll find a way to fix this.”


	220. McHanzo + Tease

When McCree stumbles blearily into the kitchen that morning it takes him a moment to realise that even though Hanzo is up and already sat at the table sipping his tea, there is no smell of coffee in the air, and it takes him another moment to realise that the coffee maker isn’t even switched on and the bag of coffee that lives beside it is nowhere to be seen. It’s not as effective as the coffee, but it certainly wakes him up, and his eyes narrow as he glances across at his husband who looks a little too innocent as he sips his own drink and glances at him over the rim of the cup.

“Hanzo, sweetheart,” McCree begins, knowing that it’s better to sweet talk him at the start rather than trying to save himself at the end. “Where is my coffee?” He knows that he could get some in the communal kitchen, but this was the good stuff and the last bit that he had until the supply run that afternoon. Hanzo is outright smirking when he lowers his cup, and for half a moment McCree thinks that he isn’t going to answer, but then dark eyes flick upwards and slowly he follows them, already knowing that he isn’t going to like it and a pained groan escapes him when he realises the bag of coffee is pinned to the ceiling with an arrow. “Hanzo…”

“This is payback for hiding my tea on top of the cupboards,” Hanzo is unrepentant, and McCree wants to groan, knowing that he shouldn’t have let Genji talk him into pranking Hanzo and wondering how the hell he is going to get his coffee back.


	221. McHanzo + Worship

    Hanzo is trembling slightly when McCree slowly eases the last of his clothing off, dropping it carelessly off to the side before studying him with heated eyes, expression softening when he realises that the archer isn’t calming.

“Sweetheart?”

“Don’t look…” Hanzo pleads, glancing aside and McCree frowned in confusion. Hanzo had always been tentative, almost shy when it came to the physical side, but never like this and cautiously he reaches out, resting his hand on Hanzo’s thighs, just above where his legs end and he comprehension begins to dawn as he feels Hanzo flinch at the touch.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, heat gone from his voice and replaced with something softer, gentler as he reaches down and presses tender kisses to the scarred flesh, keeping his eyes on Hanzo’s face so that he can watch his reactions, taking in the flush that greets the kisses and the lack of protest before cautiously moving a little higher, fingers trailing across Hanzo’s skin to be followed by his lips. Worshipping every inch of skin, pausing at the slightest hint of tension, watching and waiting as Hanzo slowly relaxed beneath his touch, wonder in the dark eyes as they watched him.


	222. McHanzo + Insomnia

    Hanzo sighed when he woke in the middle of the night to find the other side of the bed was empty, it was a common occurrence, neither of them slept well at the best of times, but it had been worse lately… McCree had been worse. Slipping out of bed, he didn’t waste any time checking the bathroom, knowing exactly where the other man would be, shivering slightly as he padded down the empty corridors towards the common room. Sure, enough his partner was huddled up on the couch, watching an old western on the big screen that Hana and Lucio had installed a few weeks ago, although from the distant expression on his face he doubted that McCree had any idea what was going on with the film. Quietly Hanzo moved across to join him, settling on the couch and waiting, letting McCree make the first move a couple of minutes later when he reached out and pulled Hanzo into his side silently letting his head come to rest against Hanzo’s. It was one of those nights where he didn’t want to talk, and Hanzo was fine with that, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position and settling in to wait…either for McCree to decide to return to bed, or as for them to doze off here as they normally did.


	223. McHanzo + Valentines

     Hanzo’s nose twitched as he rolled over, trying to bury his face further into the pillow in the hopes of remaining asleep for a little longer, only to find something soft and fragrant tickling his noise. Moving over just brought him into contact with the same sensation and growling under his breath, promising to throttle his partner if this was another prank he lifted his head, blinking to clear his bleary vision…only to still, mouth falling open as realised that the entire bed was strewn in rose petals. Slowly he sat up, gently picking up a handful of petals and sniffing them, only to freeze when there was a soft chuckle from the end of the bed and when he glanced up it was to find McCree sat on the end, watching him with a soft smile.

“Jesse…what?” He didn’t even know what ‘this’ was, trailing off helplessly, and blinking when McCree crawled onto the bed seemingly uncaring of the fact that he was ruining his own work as he padded closer until he was able to lean in and steal a quick kiss.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”


	224. McHanzo + Alone

    He was alone again. There had been a time when he had missed his solitude, the noise of the Watchpoint and the people who were constantly pushing into his space too much after years of being on his own…and even when he had settled in, even when he had become them, the larger than life gunslinger pushing through his barriers and settling in to stay, there had been times when it was too much. Now though as he moved through their quarters…his quarters…gathering McCree’s belongings with trembling hands, pressing his nose into discarded clothes in search of his husband’s scent while it still lingered, fingers curling around the numerous trinkets that McCree had gathered over the years, it dawned on him just how alone he was. There was no McCree to welcome him home, no stupid grin to greet him in the morning, no off-tune singing in the shower that had always been too small but now felt too large…he was alone again, and that thought, that realisation was enough to send him crashing to his knees with McCree’s hat cradled in his hands.


	225. McHanzo + Explosion

     McCree was numb, not responding as Angela tended to the cuts littering his skin, not even reacting when she tentatively tapped his cheek, trying to elicit a response. Instead, his gaze was locked on the smoke rising from the still-burning remains of the Talon base they had been neutralising…if you could even call it remains, most of the buildings destroyed in the explosion that had spelt the end of the mission and nearly killed them all. It should have killed them all…

“It happened again….” The words slipped out without him meaning for them to, and he felt Angela stiffen beside him and slowly, still numb and trying to cling to that numbness, not ready to face up to the pain…the grief that he could feel bubbling up underneath. “I lost everything…because of an explosion.” He had thought that the pain, the grief when he had heard about Zurich and the fate of Gabriel Reyes had been bad enough, but it was nothing…nothing compared to what was slowly welling up in his chest, breath catching as he turned his gaze back to smoke and flames, a wretched, broken sob rising in his throat. “Hanzo…”


	226. McHanzo + First Kiss

“Stop pretending like you care!”

“Fool.” McCree had been about to bristle at the familiar insult, before he paused, realising that he had never heard Hanzo sound that soft, that hesitant before and he frowned, realising that the archer wasn’t meeting his gaze. “You fool…you think that I don’t care?” McCree was beginning to think he had hit a nerve, although he didn’t understand how or why because he had thrown those words at Hanzo before and never got this reaction before. Before he could say anything though Hanzo had moved forward, demolishing the careful distance he usually maintained between them, and McCree’s eyes widened as Hanzo leant up and pressed their lips together. It was brief, just a fleeting contact, dark eyes meeting his for a moment before Hanzo coloured and turned and fled, leaving McCree staring after him, slowly raising trembling fingers to brush against his lips.

“Hanzo…”


	227. McHanzo + Drinking Game

     This was not quite what he’d had in mind when he’d suggested a drinking game to while away the time until the others were able to arrange an extraction. Hell, he hadn’t even thought that Hanzo was going to agree. His partner had loosened up a lot from when he had first joined Overwatch, but he still tended to frown at stuff like that, especially when all they had on offer was a couple of bottles of cheap whiskey. Apparently, near-death was enough to lower his inhibitions, and for once Hanzo had been the one to drink him under the table while managing to lose their poker game so spectacularly that he must have been doing it on purpose. Which left McCree bordering on drunk, Hanzo passed out and temptingly naked in his lap, and the communicator crackling to life with Winston’s voice to tell them that help was on the way.


	228. McHanzo + Breathe

    McCree snarled as he finally managed to yank himself out of Genji and Hana’s grip, practically bowling them over in his hurry to escape and ignoring their attempts to placate him with words, his gaze fixated on Hanzo. Hanzo who was lying on the floor a short distance away, too quiet, which was saying something as he was never talkative even at the best of times, too still…his eyes closed…and McCree could almost fool himself that his partner was just sleeping. Almost. If it wasn’t for the fact that he couldn’t see Hanzo’s chest rising and falling, or the blood staining his side from where Widowmaker had finally caught him with a lucky shot.

“Hanzo…” His voice cracked, his knees giving way beneath him as he watched Angela working, catching the grim set to her mouth, the doubt in gaze when she glanced at him and he frantically shook his head. She couldn’t give up, she couldn’t stop… _Hanzo please, just breathe…breathe…_


	229. McHanzo + Comfort

    Hanzo hesitated for a moment in the doorway, just watching McCree for a moment, taking in trembling shoulders and bowed head and catching the hitched breathing. It was the latter that had him moving forward, steps cautious and quiet, afraid of saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing and pushing his partner over the edge, but unable to stay away. It took less time than he had expected to reach his side, and he faltered, he wasn’t good at this…he wasn’t good at a lot of things when it came to their relationship, but he had never wished so strongly that he wasn’t, inhaling shakily before reaching out for McCree. His fingers were trembling when they brushed against the serape, but steadier as he pressed down, moving closer and crouching next to the other man, his other hand coming to rest on McCree’s knee as he fought to get his voice to work. He didn’t know what to say, what words could make this situation any better, if that was even possible, but there was a thing that he could say and hope that it would at least reassure his partner that he wasn’t alone.

“I’m here.”


	230. McHanzo + Trust

    McCree hesitated for a moment when he reached the bathroom door, hearing the lock sliding into place and what sounded worryingly like a hiccupping sob, fighting the urge to just kick down the door and settling for scowling at it. He had thought they had got past this, got past Hanzo feeling the need to retreat from him and hide when his past overwhelmed him, and for the most part they had…even Genji had commented that Hanzo had never been so open as he was with McCree, which meant that whatever had sent him scuttling into the bathroom was bad.

“Hanzo,” he called, carefully burying his irritation because he knew that Hanzo would misconstrue it in his current frame of mind, scowl deepening when he heard nothing. “Sweetheart, please? Talk to me.” Still nothing, and now worry was seeping in, overriding his irritation and he stepped forward so that he could rest a hand against the door, before leaning in and resting his forehead against the cool metal… he knew that his next words were going to be a low blow, but right now, he was willing to do anything to get this door open. “Hanzo, please talk to me…I thought you trusted me.”


	231. McHanzo + Cuddling

    McCree opened an eye, peering blearily at Hanzo who was looming over him with an expectant look which shifted to irritation when the archer nudged him again.

“What?”

“Move over,” Hanzo ordered, the softness…the longing in his voice belying his irritated expression and McCree grinned, more awake now as he studied his partner, before glancing down the length of his body. He was sprawled across the sofa, feet hanging over the end, taking up all the room…but while Hanzo had nudged him to get him to move, he knew that wasn’t what his partner wanted, and he refocused on Hanzo, shifting onto his back and lifting an arm in invitation. As always Hanzo hesitated, still shy about public displays and considering they were in the main common room it was as public as it got, but in the end his longing won out, and he took a step forward, letting McCree grab his hand and tug him down, willingly crawling onto his chest and curling there.

“Better?” McCree asked as he wrapped his arms around Hanzo, laughing when Hanzo curled closer, tucking his head under the gunslinger’s chin, settling down with a contented hum. “I’ll take that as a yes.”


	232. McHanzo + First Child

    Hanzo opened his mouth and then closed it again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stared at the tiny figure curled up on the bed and tracing the small arm that led to where McCree was perched on the side of the bed, tiny hand completely engulfed by one of his partner’s.

“How did this happen? _How do we fix this?_ Was the more urgent question, but he could see Angela already pouring over her notes, and he had learnt the hard…painful…way not to rush her, although it was hard, especially when Genji…or rather the tiny being that replaced his brother curled closer to McCree with a whimper. _We need to fix this…_

“No idea,” McCree murmured, his free hand brushing through Genji’s hair in an attempt to soothe him, before shooting a guilty look at Hanzo.   “They were aiming at me, and then he was in between us and when the dust cleared…I’m sorry.” Hanzo wanted to reassure him that it was okay, that he didn’t blame him and that Genji was old enough to know what he was doing…instead, another wayward thought bubbled up and escaped before he could stop it.

“I hope that this was not what you had in mind when you brought up children the other night…”


	233. McHanzo + Forget

_Forget about me,_ Hanzo’s voice caught in his throat, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth as he tried and failed to smile, the fingers resting against McCree’s cheek slowly falling away as Hanzo lost the fight to stay with him.

    McCree jolted awake, his arm outstretched as though Hanzo was still within reach, his chest heaving as reality slammed into him once more. Hanzo was gone. _Forget me,_ a bitter noise, half sob, half laugh bubbled at that; it had been three years and the memories of the archer, of their life to together and that hellish day were as vivid as ever. _Idiot, as though I could ever forget you…_


	234. McHanzo + Devout

     Jesse McCree had never been a devout man, any belief he might once have had been lost while he was a child. He’d lost too much, done too much, to have any faith in some higher power, preferring to put his faith in his own abilities and those few people that he trusted. Now, as he watched Angela working frantically to save Hanzo, her expression twisted with determination and fear, he found himself praying for the first time in years, hands clasped together in his lap. _Please…_ The light from her staff was washing over Hanzo again and again, yet it seemed to him that Hanzo was slipping further and further from him, and he could feel his nails biting into his skin as he tightened his grip. _Please, don’t take him too._


	235. McHanzo + Rings

    It seemed that he was destined to be left with nothing but memories, and tokens of those he loved, wearing them like a chain for fear that he might forget. For years it had been a sparrow feather, light yet unbelievably heavy as it rested against his chest, a constant reminder of what he had done. Now, the feather which had eventually been laid to rest in Gibraltar with Genji’s blessing had been replaced with a light chain, weighed down by matching rings. His fingers trembled as he reached for them, needing the reassurance that they were still then even though he could feel them resting against his skin, eyes stinging as brushed his fingers against the one that had been made for fingers much larger than his own. “McCree,” he whispered, not letting the tears fall, closing his eyes to hold them back and immediately regretting it when all he could see was McCree leaping in to shield him on the mission, unable to forget the noise his partner had made or the way he had crumpled, falling to the ground even as he had reached for Hanzo.


	236. McHanzo + Cohabiting

    McCree wondered how much longer it was going to be before Hanzo finally admitted that they were living together. So far whenever he had so much as implied it, he had been brushed off, and yet everywhere he looked in the room, there was evidence to support his words. The laundry basket was overflowing with their clothes, chaps tangled with Hanzo’s gi, one of Hanzo’s ribbons pooled on the floor next to it. Their weapons were resting side by side on the chest at the end of the bed, and the shelves that had once been bare of anything but an old sake set and a dusty sparrow feather now held an eccentric mix of souvenirs that they had both collected on various missions. Even more telling in his mind was the fact that he knew without a doubt that Hanzo would be back soon, that he would greet him with a kiss, no longer questioning his presence or making him search for an excuse to visit.


	237. McHanzo + Roomates

    Hanzo had thought that McCree’s reluctance to share a room with him for the duration of their mission in Dorado was due to the lingering issues between them about what had happened with his brother. Instead, he found himself being rouse from his uneasy sleep by the sound of McCree shouting out in his sleep for the second night in a row when it dawned on him that the other man had other reasons for being reluctant to share. The first night he hadn’t been able to make out what McCree was shouting out, but tonight his voice had dropped, becoming lower and more desperate and Hanzo found his heart aching as he realised McCree was calling out for people that he knew had been lost in the fall of Blackwatch, pleading with them to come back. It was when he heard McCree’s breath hitch, a sob breaking free that he could bear it no longer, slipping out of his own bed and moving across to McCree’s settling on the edge and cautiously resting a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone…. not anymore.”


	238. McHanzo + Lasso

   McCree had never really been the most patient of people, especially when he had his eyes set on something…or someone, and Hanzo and his irritating inability to put his feelings into words had finally pushed him over the edge. Which was why he was currently laid flat on his back in his quarters, trying to remind himself that lying here with an arrow pushing worryingly against his forehead was a bad thing, and trying not to get distracted by how attractive the archer was when his eyes were flashing with irritation.

“You. Lassoed. Me.” Hanzo growled, and McCree couldn’t stop himself from grinning even though he knew he was courting death by doing so. “In front of everyone.”

“It got your attention didn’t it?” McCree drawled unrepentantly, that had been the whole point, after all, …that and dragging the other man away so that they could actually talk, although he hadn’t anticipated the speed at which Hanzo would manage too free himself, hence his current situation. “You…” He was cut off abruptly, the arrow falling aside with a clatter as Hanzo kissed him fiercely, and for once he found himself speechless when the other man pulled back to tell him sternly.

“You already had my attention…”


	239. McHanzo + Footsies

    Hanzo was currently fighting both the urge to blush and the urge to fill McCree’s body with arrows…the latter desire increasing by the second as he caught sight of the smug grin on the Cowboy’s face, and his fingers clenched against the tabletop. His partner knew how he felt about public displays of affection especially when they were sat in a mission briefing, and he was taking advantage of the fact that no one could see through the table to see the way his feet had curled around Hanzo’s, or how they were creeping up the side of his ankle. A low growl slipped free as McCree’s foot slid even higher, and he jolted as for a brief second the foot brushed against something that he hadn’t wanted it to, and it took all his willpower not to groan, instead turning red as he realised that all eyes had turned to him.

“Are you alright, Hanzo?” Winston asked sounding genuinely concerned, and Hanzo froze trying to think of a lie as there was no way he was telling the truth here, shooting a glare at McCree whose smug expression had been replaced with one of faux concern and his voice was blunt, with a threatening edge when he finally replied.

“I was considering how best to sacrifice McCree for my own safety on this job…”

  _And sanity…_


	240. McHanzo + Fear

“What were you thinking?”

“I think that should be my question,” McCree growled, ignoring the fact that he was currently laid up in the infirmary with his good arm in a sling and his mechanical one currently missing, under the tender mercies of Angela…and refusing to soften even when he caught the flicker of confusion and hurt that greeted his tone. “You do realise that you would have died if I hadn’t got in the way?” Even the mere thought of it left a nasty taste in the Cowboy’s mouth, and his eyes narrowed as Hanzo glanced off to the side.

“I do not fear death, and…”

“Well, I do!” McCree cut him off, not wanting to hear the next words from the archer’s lips…knowing that it wouldn’t be an apology, and disregarding the pain that it was going to cause him he reached out with his injured arm to grasp Hanzo’s hand, waiting for the archer to meet his gaze once more. “I don’t want to die…but more than that, I don’t want you to die! I fear your death more than anything…”


	241. McHanzo + Halloween

“Hanzo…” McCree trailed of, for the first time not actually knowing what to say to his partner…he had thought that he had successfully managed to explain Halloween to the archer, not wanting his warier boyfriend to react badly to the local kids knocking at the door and demanding candy or threatening tricks …however; apparently he hadn’t anticipated just how far Hanzo was going to go. The sight of the blue dragons rushing through the air had been electrifying as always…for half a moment…and then there was a scream, and he felt the colour draining from his face as he realised his partner had just fired that shot above the head of some of the local kids.

“They’re unharmed…” Hanzo had caught the strained tone, lowering his bow as he turned to look at the Cowboy with a confused frown… “I merely scared them.” _Scared them?_ McCree had a feeling that they either wouldn’t get any visitors ever again…or they were going to have hordes of angry parents and police at their door by the end of the night, and he sighed, before asking in a pained voice.

“Couldn’t you have just given them the candy?”


	242. McHanzo + Smile

   McCree woke to the sensation of being watched, something that once upon a time would have had him rolling out of bed and lunging for his gun, but he knew these eyes and the warmth of the body pressed up against his back.

“You’re up early,” he mumbled glancing across at the antique alarm clock for a moment, scowling as he realised just how early it was before rolling over to face Hanzo. His next words die on the tip of his tongue as he finds Hanzo staring at him, a smile playing on his lips, not his usual half-smile, but a full one, warm and soft and McCree finds himself breathless at the sight. “Sweet…?”

“I love you.” It’s barely a whisper of sound, but it sounds deafening in McCree’s ears, and he finds himself unable to move as the older man leans in to kiss him, it's gentle and chaste and the gunslinger melts into it with a smile of his own.

“I know…I love you too.”


	243. McHanzo + Anniversary

“Not that I’m complaining,” McCree drawled when he was finally released, hands lingering on Hanzo’s waist from where he had instinctively grabbed his partner before. “But what did I do to deserve a kiss like that.” Hanzo had opened up a great deal since the early days of their relationship, but he was still reluctant to initiate things most of the time, and yet there had been no hesitation in his actions when he’d practically thrown himself at McCree the moment the gunslinger had stepped into their quarters.

“It’s our anniversary,” Hanzo was looking everywhere but him now, colour dusting in his cheeks, but McCree was caught up on his words, frowning in confusion and he must’ve made some kind of noise because the archer finally glanced up at him. “Two years ago…you kissed me for the first time, I wanted to return the favour.”


	244. Anahardt + Blind

“Ana, you look at beautiful as ever.” The familiar words heard so many times over the years have her smiling even before she glances up at her husband, taking in the milky eyes, one lost in battle the other to old age. It’s been nearly two years since he last saw her, but before she can protest his statement, she feels large fingers brushing against her cheek, gentle in a way no one his size should be capable of and she leans into the touch with a soft sigh. “I don’t need to see you, to know that,” he murmurs, booming voice dropping to a whisper as he leans in, kissing where his fingers rest against her skin before he begins to move his fingers. The touches are gentle, almost hesitant as he traces her face, mapping it out and lingering when he finds fresh lines and a new scar, committing the new features to memory before kissing them. “You will always be beautiful.”


	245. Anahardt + Marriage

They had talked about it once, back before the fall, vague half-formed plans - a small ceremony, friends and family only, somewhere quiet and out of the limelight, they had even been looking at the dates. It had never happened, and their paths had taken them far from one another. Yet now, years later, Ana felt her breath catching as she stepped into the large mess hall, blinking back sudden tears as she took in the decorations that had been put up to transform the room. Her eyes darting to the gathered agents and then to Reinhardt who was waiting for her with the same patience he had always waited with. It was small, quiet just as they had always wanted, and yet at the same time it was nothing like she had imagined, but at that moment as her gaze caught her daughter’s earning an approving nod, before darting to Jack who was stood waiting to carry out the ceremony, she had to admit that it was perfect. A small, warm smile creeping across her face as her husband to be turned to look at her, the same adoring look he had given her before the fall. _Perfect._


	246. Anahardt + Peace

There were times, usually first thing in the morning when she would wake curled against Reinhardt, his arms wrapped around her as though to stop her disappearing again that she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like when the fighting was over. What they would be like with peace. Strangely, it was a terrifying notion, they had met through war, grown closer through war, and it had brought them back together again years later. Everything they had was because of Overwatch and fighting side by side for so long, did that mean that peace would be too different for them?  On the other hand, it was a thought that excited her more and more these days, these rare peaceful mornings making her long for more. More mornings where they could just be them, and not heroes, when she could close her eyes and go back to sleep lulled by his snoring, more mornings where she would be woken by warm lips on hers, rather than the alarm of Athena reminding about briefings. _Perhaps, we’re ready for peace…_


	247. Anahardt + Try

“Ana,” Reinhardt whispered, unsurprised when she didn’t respond, desperately trying to pull him to his feet and with a sigh he reached out, gently grasping her wrist and waiting for her gaze to dart to his face, wincing at the grief he could see. “Liebling, I can’t get up…not this time.” His own voice wavered at that point, made worse by the way her expression crumpled for a moment. They both knew it was true, that even if Angela or Lucio had been there, it was unlikely to have changed anything, it wasn’t a wound that you came back from.

“Y-You can try,” he had never heard Ana sound so desperate, so fragile, she had always been composed before, regardless of what they were facing. But now her expression was open, tears gathering in her eye as she stared at him. “P-Please try.” He had never been able to deny her anything and now was no different even though he knew that he couldn’t get up, even as pain lanced up his side, he tried to obey, tried to rise…tried to give her hope.


	248. Anahardt + Whisper

 It had happened too quickly, the world erupting around them in a painful blur of flames, smoke and debris and Ana had found herself being flung backwards a second before it could hit her, catching a fleeting glimpse of Reinhardt’s panicked expression before the world faded to black. She could only have been out for a few minutes, rocks still settling around them and flames burning brightly around her, and slowly she pushes herself up and glances around, there’s barely a wall still standing, and she swallows thickly as she contemplates the loss of life. It takes her a moment too long to realise that there is no booming voice calling for her, stomach twisting itself in knots as she climbs to her feet and looks around, breath catching when she finds Reinhardt crumpled a short distance away. It seems to take forever to reach his side, heart hammering in her chest, and the sight of hazy eyes drifting towards her has tears in her eyes for the first time in years.

“Ana…Liebling…” Reinhardt’s voice wasn’t supposed to be quiet, it wasn’t in his nature, and the sound of the broken whisper had her falling to her knees at his side, reaching for him with trembling fingers.

“I’m here.”


	249. Anahardt + Retirement

“I thought you two were supposed to be retired,” Mercy chided as she tended to the long gash down Reinhardt’s arm, glancing across at where Lucio was finishing checking over Ana who looked dishevelled but mainly uninjured, before her gaze drifted to the ruins of the small house that the pair had called home for the past few years. “What happened?”

“Talon.” Ana was the one to reply, voice sharp as she shooed Lucio away so that she could move across to her husband, resting a hand on his shoulder before examining his injury with a rapidly darkening expression. “Clearly, they thought we would be an easy target, however…” She gestures at the wound, and the damage in the room from where Reinhardt had obviously put his strength to good use, and the bullet holes from her rifle which now lay discarded a short distance away, a slight smile gracing her lips as Reinhardt reached up to grasp her hand.

“Retirement doesn’t really suit either of us…”


	250. Anahardt + Devotion

“You’re as beautiful as ever, Liebling,” Reinhardt murmured softly, laying aside the brush he had been using and leaning down to press a kiss to the now snowy locks, earning an exasperated sigh from his wife even as she smiled at him.

“One day you’re going to have to stop saying that,” Ana chides him as always, an old argument now, one that has run for decades and she’s unsurprised when he chuckles, laughter lines deepening around his eyes.

“Never.” With gentle hands, he helps her out of the chair, turning her so that he can pull her closer, hands cradling her face and tilting it upwards. The adoration and devotion in his eyes are unchanged even now, and she melts into him, leaning up to meet him halfway, once again wondering what she had done to deserve him especially when he murmured softly against her lips. “You will always be beautiful Ana.”


	251. Anahardt + Confession

     Ana was trembling as she captures Reinhardt’s hand in both of hers, trying not to focus on how weakly his fingers are curling around hers, or the blood that is soaking the front of his shirt, the wounds too much for her equipment to handle. He knows it, she can see it in his eyes when he tilts his head just enough to peer at her, a weak echo of his usual smile crawling across his face as he reaches up with his free hand to brush at the tears that she hadn’t even realised were falling down her face.

“Liebling.” His voice is never meant to be that soft, that broken and she flinches, shaking her head as though that would be enough to stop the words…even though she doesn’t want him to stop. “Ana…Did you know that I nearly didn’t come back? That I was going to ignore the recall?” _You should have,_ she wants to say, wants to pretend that if he hadn’t come back, then he would still be safe somewhere out in the world. “I came back because of you, even before I knew you were alive. Overwatch…it brought us together, and I thought that if I came back, I could hold onto the memories just a little bit longer.”

“Reinhardt…”

“Instead…” He trailed off for a moment, voice faltering as his eyes began to close and Ana swallowed back a sob, clinging tighter to his hand as though that would keep him anchored, keep him alive just a little bit longer.  “Instead, I got to make fresh memories with you, so thank you….”


	252. Anahardt + Reunion

    It felt strange stepping into the Watchpoint, almost as though she was stepping into someone else’s shoes, walking through their past…their life…and not for the first-time Ana can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake to come back, to try and bring back something that had died. It’s a thought that has her half-turned back towards the door before she realises what’s she’s doing, only to freeze at the sound of heavy footsteps, her heart already pounding in her chest even before a familiar voice rang out from behind her.

“Ana.” It’s been years since she’s heard his voice, heard the warmth and softness with which he says her name, and yet it sounds just the same, and it’s like a siren call. One that she can’t ignore even if she wanted to, and slowly she turns, startled to realise just how close Reinhardt had got. She looks up and up and up, lips curling up as she reminded of how tall he is, meeting warm, blue eyes for a brief second before she’s yanked into a tight hug. “Welcome back.” It’s only now, with his arms around her and his booming voice echoing that she feels that maybe, just maybe, she can step back into her old life and her voice wavers slightly as she buries herself in his hold.

“I’m back.”


	253. Anahardt + Forgive

      Reinhardt is quiet as he steps aside to let Ana into his room, as though it was perfectly normal for her to turn up at the door at three in the morning. There had been a time when it was, but that like so many others things lay far behind them now, and she hesitates for a moment before moving inside. She jumps when the door click shut behind her, and again when his hand lands on her shoulder, gently guiding her across so that she can sit on the edge of the bed and she can’t bring herself to look at him as he settles down beside her. The silence stretches on, uncomfortable in a way that it had never been in the past and she only lasts a couple more minutes before breaking it, needing to say what had woken her in a cold sweat and sent her practically running to his room.

“I’m sorry.” She feels, rather than sees the way he tenses at her words, but she still can’t look at him, twisting her hands together in her lap. “I’m sorry that I let you believe I was dead, that I didn’t leave something to tell you the truth…and that I stayed away for so long.” There is so much more she wants to say, so much more she wants to apologize for, but the words won’t come, and she’s caught by surprise when Reinhardt reaches out to trap her hands in one of his, the other moving to gently grab her chin and tilt it until she meets his gaze.

“I forgave you the moment I knew that you were still alive.”


	254. Anahardt + Cope

Reinhardt doesn’t look up when he hears the door close behind him, the latest of his visitors having given up and left him in peace at last. He’s not even sure who it was this time, reasonably sure that everyone who knows him had been by in the last couple of days, but it’s easily dismissed a moment later as he turns his attention back to his armour. It’s stupid. There’s nothing left to work on, not that there was much in the first place, but now it gleams almost like it had the day it was made, all but the most stubborn dents long gone, and yet still he polishes it. He needs to. Needs something to stop himself from thinking, from feeling, eyes still sore and swollen from hours of weeping, grieving in his room, still waiting for someone…anyone…to come and tell him that it’s a lie and that Ana is going to come home.


	255. Anahardt + Snow

     Ana smiled faintly as she leant against the doorframe, a cup of tea cradled in her hands and one of Reinhardt’s massive coats hanging from her shoulders like a cloak. Reinhardt’s booming laughter filling the air as he chased Torbjörn’s children around in the snow, throwing up massive flurries as he skidded, acting like a man half his age. It made her think back fondly to when he had done the same with Fareeha when she was little, remembering how they would both come tumbling in hours later with red noses and demanding hot chocolates, with Reinhardt playfully stealing Fareeha’s marshmallows until Ana threatened to sleep dart him.

“Ana! Come join us!” Reinhardt had spotted her, smiling broadly as he gestured to her and there was a refusal on the tip of her tongue, after all, she wasn’t built for snow and cold weather like he was. But there was something about the nostalgic feeling in her heart and the smile on his face that had her carefully setting her tea down on the kitchen window ledge and stepping outside, yanking his coat tighter as the cold hit her.


	256. Genji & Hanzo + Circus

    Hanzo knew that they were going to be a world of trouble for this, but right now, beneath the dazzling lights strung around the circus tent, it was hard to worry about that. It was hard to feel guilty either as he glanced down, smiling as his brother giggled, the soft peal of laughter like music to his ears… it was a sound that had been coming less and less since their father had decided Genji was old enough to join him in training. Resolutely pushing all thoughts of punishment, duty and their father to the back of his mind he shifted closer to Genji, wrapping an arm around his brother’s shoulders, smiling at him when Genji peered up at him with wide eyes.

“Are you having fun?” He didn’t need the frantic nodding to have his answer, it was there as Genji giggled again, eyes wide and bright as he watched the clowns that were currently rolling around the ring and Hanzo turned his attention to the display as well. He was startled a moment later when a small hand clenched around his wrist, glancing back at Genji to find his brother staring at him with a suddenly solemn expression.

“Thank you.”


	257. Hanzo + Dragon

     There had been many times in his life when Hanzo had wondered why the Dragons had chosen him, and why they had remained even after everything he had done…after he had turned his back on the very clan, they represented. However, he had always been grateful for their loyalty as undeserved as it was, the constant hum in the back of his mind stopping the isolation from becoming too much, their voices saving him more times than he cared to count. However, right now as the adrenaline from his fight with his brother began to fade…his brother who was supposed to be dead… the reality of the situation began to sink in, his hands trembling as he released his bow as though burnt. He had attacked Genji again, hadn’t even been able to recognise his own brother and the Dragons hadn’t warned him, hadn’t stopped him, and with an anguished cry, he fell to his knees.

“Why? Why didn’t you stop me?” He wasn’t sure which time he was referring to, all he knew was that he had tried to kill his brother again…


	258. Hanzo + Sweets

Hanzo glanced to either side, not sure why he felt the need to hide this particular habit from the others, but still feeling a rush of relief at the lack of familiar faces passing by. Taking a deep breath, he slipped into the bakery, inhaling the smells filling the air and feeling his lips twitch up slightly, it was a smell that he could never tire of. It brought back memories of happier times, of sneaking into the kitchen either with Genji in tow or more frequently on his own, the servants always chasing him out and berating him as much as they dare considering who he was…but then they would always slip him something, just a tiny sweet treat, something his parents would rarely allow him. Maybe that was why he still tried to hide it, remembering the few times when his father or one of the elders had caught him with the treat in hand, taking it from him and forcing him into more lessons. Shaking his head, trying to push the memories away he stepped up to the counter, offering a slightly strained smile at the teller, before his eyes lit up at the sight of the cake on display, revelling in his freedom as he lifted a hand to point at it.

“That one, please.”


	259. Hanzo + His Mother

    There were many things that he had forgotten from his childhood, and even more that he had forgotten about his mother, whether willfully or through the passage of time. He could vaguely recall her voice, and some of the tales that she had read to him as a boy, songs that she had sung when he was unwell, but nowadays the words were clearer than the sound of her voice or the expressions she had made. He might not know exactly what he had lost, but he mourned each hazy memory, each fading word. Yet the one memory that he wished that he could forget, was also the worst, and it replayed with perfect clarity in his nightmares and those moments where he let his mind wander to the past. He could still feel the clammy touch against his cheek, hear her ruined voice telling him to be strong, her breathing a raspy sound that had faded before he could force his voice to work and promise her that he would be strong…before he could say goodbye.


	260. Hanzo & Genji + School

    Hanzo watched with a hint of jealousy as his brother headed out of the school gates with his group of friends, a bright smile on his face as he chatted away as though he didn’t have a concern in the world…as though the Shimada name didn’t weigh him down. His gaze lingered for a moment on that happy smile, before he turned away with clenched hands as he turned to look at the papers on the desk in front of him, and more importantly the red marks in the corner. He already knew that when he got home, he would catch an earful for this, and he growled softly before turning back to watch as his brother disappeared from sight…Genji had probably forgotten to do his homework again, but not a word would be said about that, and for a moment he really wished that he could hate his brother. _But…_ No matter how much he hated the expectations that came from being a Shimada, from being the next in line…he wouldn’t hate his brother nor wish that he had this burden instead, wanting to do what he could to preserve that smile for as long as possible.


	261. Hanzo & Genji + Duty

    Genji watched with narrowed eyes as his brother moved through the steps of his sword practice, easily able to admit that it was a beautiful sight even if he preferred his own ninja techniques. Yet there was something lacking…something that tainted the beauty, and he couldn’t put his finger on it, at least not until later when he overheard their tutor scolding Hanzo for being too focused on the art of his fight and not the practical application that he realised what it was. _Duty…_ It was a word that he had come to hate ever since he had got old enough to understand it, and now he hated it, even more, recalling with fondness the wildness of their sparring when they were younger. Back then, there had been a glint in his brother’s eyes when they fought, and it dawned on him now that had also faded with time…and when Hanzo stood in front of him that fateful day, there was no hint of that glint…not hint of the beauty he had once admired so much, just the blank mask of duty, and he realised that Hanzo was just as lost as he was.


	262. Hanzo & Genji + Redemption

     Hanzo could vaguely make out the mechanised voice of his brother, and as he struggled to open his eyes, it occurred to him that he had never heard the younger man sound so human before as he did right now as he called to him. Finally, he managed to force his eyes open, the world hazy and unfocused apart from Genji’s face as the ninja leant over him and as full awareness came back to him, so did the pain and the feel of his brother’s arms around him.

“I am sorry…” He knew that the younger man didn’t want to hear that, but he was attuned enough to his own body to know that this wasn’t an injury that he was going to survive. He had never once feared death, only that he would die before he had redeemed himself…seeing that blast heading towards Genji his body had moved without him even thinking about it, and now as his vision began to fade and he heard his brother calling his name once more, he felt peace settling over him.

_With each death…with this death comes honour…and with honour…redemption…._


	263. Hanzo & Genji + Skin

Hanzo’s expression was grim, an unpleasant mixture of fear, concern and guilt churning in his stomach as he watched Angela carefully removing his brother’s armour…armour that had saved his life but was now badly cracked and in need of replacing. It was the first time he had seen it removed, and he was terrified to see what remained of his brother underneath the sleek exterior, and yet he refused to let himself look away…he had caused this…he was the reason Genji had become like this, and while facing it would do little to help his brother, he owed him that much. He swallowed thickly as bit by bit it came away, revealing a startling patchwork of sleek metal, wires and human skin…it was both worse and better than he had allowed himself to imagine, and when his brother stirred fretfully, the pain breaking through the medication he moved forward and gently reached out to grasp his brother’s hand. He could feel both skin and metal beneath his fingers, but he merely curled his fingers tighter.

“Genji…I’m here.”


	264. Hanzo & Genji + Brothers

   Perhaps there had been a time when he would have drawn satisfaction from the way his brother’s eyes widened, horrified realisation spreading across Hanzo’s face as he slowly lifted his mask to reveal what remained of his face…if there was, it had been long lost, probably the day that he had woken in that cursed hospital room to find that he was more machine than man…the day he had truly begun to hate what he was, and the man that had made him like this.

“Genji…”

“What remains of him,” Genji…if that was even who he was anymore, snarled, wrenching himself backwards as his brother reached for him with trembling fingers. “Are you happy now, brother? To see what you did to me? What I became because of you and the Shimada clan?”

“I was never happy…” Hanzo whispered, anguish written across his face and Genji faltered for a brief second, taking in the altar behind the older man…realising that his brother had been praying, no doubt asking for forgiveness, and his expression lightened suddenly…there was a way for both of them to be free…to be happy. “Genji I…” _How do I earn your forgiveness?_ The unspoken question hung in the air between them, and the ninja sat back on his heels and took a deep breath.

“Kill me…” he replied softly, continuing quickly as he saw dark eyes widening in horror. “Free me from this,” he gestured at the suit that was the only reason he was still alive if this could even be called being alive... “And I will forgive you…”


	265. Hanzo & Genji + Redemption

   Genji hesitated for a moment outside the infirmary, already knowing what awaited him on the other side of the door and reluctant to face it again…reluctant to face the decision that lay ahead of him…but that would be the coward’s way out, and he owed his brother more that. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room, pain lancing through his heart…reminding him all too strongly that he was more human than he cared to admit, especially right now and there was a suspicious burning sensation in his eyes as his gaze settled on the still form on the bed…on the wires and tubes and machines that were the only reason Hanzo was still with him.

“Brother…” He whispered, swallowing past the painful lump that had risen in the back of his throat as he crossed the distance between them, reaching out to take a pale hand between his. “Hanzo…I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re running out of time…you’re running out of time…” He trailed off, unable to believe his own words, wishing desperately that they weren’t true…but Mercy had made it clear that it was unlikely his brother could back from this, and he felt the strength drain from his legs as he sank to the floor, still clinging to Hanzo’s hand. “I…You…I want you to know…you kept me safe…you didn’t need to earn it, but you’ve more than earned the redemption you were seeking…”

_I just wish I knew how I’m going to earn mine when you’re gone…_


	266. Hanzo & Genji + Laughter

    One of Genji’s favourite memories was of the two of them hiding up on the roof of the dojo, Hanzo having agreed to skip training for once…a rare moment of rebellion after a morning of being told that he wasn’t measuring up to expectations, although he had drawn the line at joining his younger brother in downing the sake Genji had stolen. It had been the first time in ages that it had been just the two of them, all defences down…the Shimada name briefly forgotten…and it had pained him at first to realise just how much they had missed each other’s lives. He’d had no idea about the extra training being forced on Hanzo, and he had realised just how far the scrutiny on his brother went…and Hanzo had no idea how far he had come with his ninja techniques, or the girl that he had fallen in love with during his escapades …his ears turning red when he muttered that he only just discovered that she wasn’t actually a girl, hence his attempts to drown himself in sake. For a moment there was silence, Hanzo staring at him with wide eyes and Genji found himself bracing for the lecture he could see brewing…therefore he was stunned when instead the older man bit his lip, ducking his head as a snort burst free and he descended in to warm laughter. It was something that Genji hadn’t heard in far too long, and it was infectious, and he found himself joining in…still red as he slumped against his brother…enjoying the moment of peace.


	267. Hanzo & Genji + Love

Genji blinked, for once glad of the mask concealing his face as it stopped Hanzo from being able to see the gob-smacked expression…of all the things he’d expected when the older man had knocked on his door a few minutes before, his brother asking for love advice hadn’t even been on the list. Hell, he was surprised that Hanzo had willing sought him out on his own accord as they were still dancing around each other rather awkwardly, although the ice had been thawing…but to come to him? It was hard not to laugh because he could remember slipping into Hanzo’s room when they were younger, asking his brother what he should do about whatever girl had caught his focus at that particular time…always faithfully doing whatever Hanzo suggested, although now he was older he had realised that it was the blind leading the blind.

“Are you really sure that you want to ask me?” He had to make sure, trying to quell the part of him that wanted to tease Hanzo…or cause mischief…because his brother was already red in the face, eyes directed at the floor as he shifted uneasily as though already regretting this and he took a deep breath at the tiny nod he received in response. “So…love?”


	268. Hanzo & Genji + Forgive

“Hanzo…” Genji sighed as he sat down next to his brother, reaching out and removing the sake cup, relieved when he wasn’t met with anything more than a mumbled protest, hastily tossing it aside and knocking the bottle over to remove any further temptation. To be honest, he had been expecting something like this, after all, it was the anniversary of their fight…but the older man had seemed fine earlier, talking normally with everyone even Genji and accepting McCree’s challenge in the practice room…but when he hadn’t appeared at dinner, the ninja had realised that it had all been an act and gone in search of him. “I thought we over this…” He knew that they weren’t…or rather than Hanzo wasn’t, because no matter how often he told him that he was forgiven…he would still catch the guilt in the odd glance from the older man, and then there were days like this.

“Genji…” Hanzo was slumping against him now, letting his headrest on the ninja’s shoulder and Genji closed his eyes…he wanted to relish the closeness and the fact that his brother was reaching out to him for comfort, but he couldn’t when it was borne from alcohol and guilt, and he sighed, although he made no effort to push the other man away.

“I’m here…” _I’ll always be here, until the day you finally forgive yourself…_


	269. Hanzo & Genji + Shenanigans

“Get down,” Hanzo hissed, grabbing Genji by the scarf and yanking him further into the bushes, shooting him a dark glare when his brother giggled. “I should have let them find you,” he muttered even as he huddled against Genji at the sound of people passes by, wincing as he heard the angry tones and both of their names now being mentioned. It was always the same, he would stumble on Genji’s shenanigans seconds before someone else found them and the blame would end up on both of their heads, and yet he could never find it in himself to just drop Genji in it.

“Why didn’t you?” Genji whispered back, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes that made Hanzo want to hit him, instead making an articulate noise before glancing away. “Aw, I love you too big brother.”

“I hate you…”


	270. Hanzo & Genji + Protective

“Stop!” Hanzo inserts as much authority as he can into his voice as he steps between their teacher and Genji, knowing that it was more surprise than his tone that stops the older man mid-strike. However, he doesn’t falter, shooting a quick glance at Genji who has huddled in on himself, silent tears streaking down his face before turning back to their teacher. “It was my mistake.” _A lie,_ it has been years since he’s messed up in their martial arts training, as harsh as their teacher’s methods were they had worked with him …but Genji was different, younger, not yet ready for that treatment. “Punish me.” He ignores the soft protest from behind him, eyes locked on their teacher and he can see that the man knows that it’s a lie, nearly melting with relief when instead of calling him out about the lie he merely gets a nod of acceptance and his head is high as he steps forward.


	271. Hanzo & Genji + Hair

     Hanzo knows that something is wrong the moment he stumbles down to breakfast, barely remembering to show the proper decorum as he slips into the room, only to pause at the stunned silence that greets his arrival. His parents are staring at him wide-eyed, and Genji looks like he’s about to combust from trying not to laugh, immediately drawing Hanzo’s attention because he knows that expression all too well. Last time it had been when his brother had managed to dye all his clothes pink, and his eyes immediately narrow, glancing down in case he’s pulled something on without realising, but there’s nothing to be seen.

“Genji?”  His brother squirms in his seat, but it's barely a minute before he breaks, eyes darting upwards and Hanzo growls under his breath as he reaches up to tug at his hair. He’s on his feet before he’s fully registered that his hair is blue. BLUE! And he takes satisfaction from the yelp Genji gives before his brother scrambles to his feet and flees with Hanzo hot on his tail.


	272. Hanzo & Genji + The Talk

“We’re not doing this,” Genji snapped as he glared at his brother, trying to ignore the burning sensation in his cheeks that had settled at the moment he had realised what Hanzo was trying to talk to him about. The only thing that made the situation even marginally more bearable was the fact that Hanzo was also red in the face, gaze averted, his haughty self nowhere to be seen…and it was almost enough to make him endure this, almost…

“Genji, please,” Hanzo finally met his gaze, frowning at him as he demanded. “Do you really think I want to be doing this?”

“Then why are you?” Genji wasn’t backing down, embarrassment fading as old issues boiled up, and he took pleasure in the way that Hanzo flinched at each word as he continued. “To protect the family honour? To please father? To make up for the fact that our parents couldn’t be bothered to this themselves? Or is it…”

“Because I don’t want you to make a mistake that lasts a lifetime,” Hanzo cut him off, sounding almost desperate as he added softly. “Because I want to protect you.”


	273. Hanzo & Genji + Fun

    Hanzo didn’t reply when there was a quiet knock on the door, remaining huddled in his bed and staring at the wall, unsurprised when the door still slid open a moment later. He listened to it close again, and the soft, barely audible patter of feet before Genji settled on the bed beside him, reaching out to grasp his shoulder with trembling fingers and yet he still couldn’t bring himself to respond or even look at his brother, and he wasn’t sure who he was angrier with…himself or Genji.

“Brother, please look at me?” Genji finally broke the silence, voice trembling slightly and Hanzo growled under his breath, even as he slowly turned to look at his brother, unable to resist that tone even after years of exposure to it. Genji flinched as their gazes met, eyes widening as he took in the damage covering Hanzo’s face, tears forming in his eyes as he reached out to ghost trembling fingers over the injuries before sniffling loudly. “I’m so sorry…I was just trying to have some fun. I…they should have punished me.” _Yes, they should,_ a small part of Hanzo wants to reply, but he swallows the angry words back because Genji is crying in earnest now, guilt was written across his face and with a sigh, he reaches up to swipe at the tears.

“It’s fine.”


	274. Hanzo & Genji + Girls

“Hey, Hanzo?” Genji scowled when all he got was a soft grunt in response, but when he turned his head it was to find Hanzo looking at him expectantly, and he sighed, wishing not for the first time that he had been blessed with a more communicative brother. “Do you ever wish we had more freedom? More choices…”

“Is this about the meeting yesterday?”

“What else…” Genji knows that he sounds bitter, he is bitter and he glances away, hands curling into fists in his lap…their father had called them in to inform them that he would be starting to look for suitable marriages for them, that it was time for them to fully dedicate themselves to the clan, as though the hours of training and lessons weren’t enough. “I don’t want to marry someone he chooses for me.” There’s no reply, and he glances up just in time to catch the pained expression on his brother’s face before it’s replaced by the blank mask that Hanzo has taken to adopting more and moreover the last few months, and he growls under his breath, knowing that it doesn’t matter…even if Hanzo did agree with him, he would never admit it and he’s already looking away when Hanzo finally replies.

“We must do what the clan commands.”


	275. Reincio+ Marriage

Lucio snorted to himself as he slipped back into their bedroom balancing two mugs of coffee as he wrestled with the door, only to find that Reinhardt had dozed off again, sprawled across the entirety of the bed now and snoring softly. It was a sight that he had seen far too many times over the years, but it never failed to make his expression soften, especially when he realised that his husband was hugging his pillow against his chest.

“Reinhardt?” He called, already knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to rouse the other man. Six years of marriage though had given him more than enough experience of rousing Reinhardt to know what would work, and he carefully set the mugs on the bedside table where they wouldn’t be jostled, before leaning in with a playful smirk and murmuring softly. “Hasselhoff is terrible, and I’m about to throw out all your classic music…” The result was instantaneous, brown eyes flying open as Reinhardt lunged for him with a booming ‘No’, and he was unable to dodge in time, squawking as he found himself being tugged back down onto the bed in a tight hug.


	276. Reincio + Dinner

    Lucio felt his eyes widening as he stepped into Reinhardt’s quarters and caught sight of the veritable feast the older man had covering the table. He had known that it was dangerous to let Reinhardt be in charge of dinner, but he hadn’t been expecting him to get this carried away, and he was very much regretting let D.Va stuff him with snacks during their gaming session that afternoon. Reinhardt bustled into the room a moment later with yet another plate in his hands, and Lucio would’ve groaned if his partner hadn’t looked so cheerful, eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

“You’re early.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still cooking?” There was a hint of alarm behind the question, he already felt full just looking at the food, and he really didn’t want to upset Reinhardt by leaving too much…maybe Angela would be willing to pump his stomach later? Reinhardt chuckled at the question, blissfully unaware of his alarm as he set the plate on the table before moving across to greet him with a warm hug.

“I’m just glad we get more time together Liebling.”


	277. Reincio + Music

“Here,” Lucio gently settled the headphones over Reinhardt’s ears, wincing at how far they stretched and making a mental note to buy him a bigger set for Christmas before turning his attention back to the computer and hitting play.  It had been years since he’d felt nervous about his music, he had worked hard to get where he was with it, and he was confident in his ability…and yet as he watched his partner’s expression for some hint of what he thought, he felt his stomach beginning to churn. It didn’t help that Reinhardt had closed his eyes, which were always ridiculously expressive and Lucio was just about to give in to temptation and actually ask when Reinhardt moved, twisting in his seat and pulling him into a tight hug with a slightly watery laugh. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Reinhardt assured him, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Now I just need to teach you to dance properly before the wedding.”

“I can dance!”


	278. Reincio + Snow

    Lucio was absolutely freezing, he had already hunkered down as much as he could in his own winter coat and the hat and scarf that Reinhardt had bought him, but it wasn’t enough, and he was sure his ears were going to fall off at some point. He wanted to growl when he glanced across at Reinhardt who looked like he was just at ease in the winter weather as he was in the sun, a broad smile on his face and his coat hanging open.

“How are you not cold?” It came out more forcefully than he had intended, both of them pausing and glancing at one another before Reinhardt’s expression softened. Before Lucio could say anything, he found himself being pulled closer, and he opened his mouth to ask what was going on when he found himself being engulfed by the larger man’s coat. All thoughts of protesting or asking more questions disappeared at once as he curled into the warmth, content to let Reinhardt pull him closer…the other man could love the cold as much as he wanted, as long as Lucio got to enjoy his heat.


	279. Reincio + Rain

Reinhardt was still trembling when he reached Lucio’s side, more cautious than normal as he gathered the smaller man close, fingers searching for any sign of injury before tugging him into a tight hug.

“You scared me,” he murmured, kissing the braided hair and closing his eyes, unable to shake the memory of Lucio going flying as he came off a wall skate to hit a puddle of water, flying towards the edge of the cliff. He knew that Lucio was more than capable of correcting his course, he had seen him pull himself out even tighter spots before, but it hadn’t stopped his heart from leaping into the back of his throat at the sight. “No more skating when it rains…” He added, and Lucio nodded quietly, both of them knowing that there was no way that was practical, they couldn’t control missions or weather like that, but for now, Reinhardt needed to pretend that he could protect Lucio from this and the younger man was willing to let him.


	280. Reincio + Flu

“Woah there, big guy,” Lucio yelped, springing forward just in time to stop Reinhardt tumbling to the ground, grunting as he struggled to push the larger man upright and then back onto the bed. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“It’s just a cold…”

“It’s not a cold,” Lucio retorted with a scowl, moving so that he was blocking his partner’s path off the bed, hands on his hips as he narrowed his eyes at the stubborn expression Reinhardt adopted. “Colds don’t leave you laid up in bed for days or give you fevers that have me and Angela running around trying to cool you down. So, you’re going to stay in bed until I say; otherwise I’m going to get Ana to dart you until you’re better!”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”


	281. Reincio + Chocolate

    It had seemed like a good idea to hide the chocolate on top of the kitchen cupboards, one of the few places where Lucio was unlikely to look and a place that only Reinhardt could reach easily. What he had underestimated though was his partner’s determination when it came to chocolate, possibly the only thing that came close to rivalling his love for music, an oversight he wasn’t likely to make again as he found himself sat beside Lucio’s bed in the infirmary.

“Liebling,” he sighed, staring at the cast around Lucio’s leg with a pained expression. “Was it really necessary to climb on the counter?”

“For chocolate? Yes!” Lucio’s reply was instantaneous, grinning as he tucked victoriously into the box of chocolates that Reinhardt had brought him, although there was a sheepish edge to his expression when he looked up a moment later. “Just maybe not in skates next time…”


	282. Reincio + Fans

“Thank you,” Lucio breathed, making no effort to pull himself free from where he had found himself buried against Reinhardt’s chest after the older man had pulled him into the safety of the hotel where they were currently staying in. His eyes slipping closed as he felt large fingers moving in soothing patterns against his back, nearly purring at the sensation as he let the other man guide him back towards the bed. “I do love them…if I hadn’t had fans like that, my music would never have spread like it did. I wouldn’t have joined Overwatch.” _I wouldn’t have met you…_ He leaves that bit unspoken, but he knows that Reinhardt will have picked up on it anyway. “But sometimes…”

“It’s too much?” The warmth and understanding in his partner’s voice are almost too much, and he can’t speak around the sudden lump that’s risen in his throat, instead nodding silently. _Sometimes they forget I have a life too…_


	283. Reincio + Jealousy

     It was hard sometimes for Lucio not to feel jealous as he watched how easily Reinhardt interacted with the older members of Overwatch, and how they interacted with him, their shared history tangible to anyone who was watching. It didn’t help that one of his first interactions with the older man had been a rather heated debate about music, one of the only times that he had seen Reinhardt bordering on irritated, something that never seemed to happen around the others. He was feeling it now, watching as Ana, Reinhardt and Angela gathered around the drinks table, chattering easily, names and stories that he didn’t recognise being traded between laughter and jokes and his stomach churned unpleasantly, not helped by the fact that he knew that he was being foolish.

    He was just about to give in and head back to his room, fairly sure that he still had a couple of tracks that needed working on when he realised that he could no longer hear the distinctive boom of his partner’s voice. Turning, he was startled to find himself face to face with Reinhardt, or rather with his chest before he lifted his head, blushing when he caught the knowing look in blue eyes. Before he could even try and come up with an excuse, he found himself being tugged into a tight hug, his eyes stinging, as he felt Reinhardt’s chest rumbling, his voice soft above him.

“Stay, Liebling.”


	284. Reincio + Meet the Family

     He should have known better than to be nervous about introducing Reinhardt to his family. Sure, there were a few raised eyebrows here and there, but apart from that, everyone had welcomed him with open arms… it was impossible not to when he greeted them so warmly, so openly, the kids immediately drawn to his smile and large size. In fact, as he watched the kids swarming over his partner, begging to be lifted up and spun around, a request that Reinhardt would never be able to refuse, he had a feeling that he might have trouble extracting him later. It didn’t matter that no one here was related to him by blood, they had grown up with him or watched him grow up, and he caught a few of the older members pulling Reinhardt aside later in the day, interrogating him when they thought that Lucio was distracted. He wasn’t worried, well aware that Reinhardt could and would answer anything they threw at him and the fact that he permanently had a few kids latched onto him could only help, and he smiled, relieved and content when their gazes met over the dinner table that night.


	285. R76 + Promises

    Soldier 76 doubted that he could have forced himself back to his feet even he had wanted to, but as he listened to Reaper moving closer, he found himself unwilling to even try. Each heavy step of his would-be killer spoke of broken promises…that missed date night, the forgotten anniversary, the future they had wanted but stopped fighting for in favour of angry words and bitter glances. The ‘I’ll protect you’ which had become ‘I’ll destroy you’, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips as he heard Reaper reloading his shotguns, of course, that would be the one promise he kept. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would; instead his heart ached at the thought that he would be the only one who had broken all their promises and he sighed, letting his head roll to the side so he could see Reaper, knowing that there was only one thing he had left to give.

“Do it…I forgive you…”


	286. R76 + Protect

   Soldier 76 took a deep breath, meeting the piercing gaze of the numerous red eyes that watching his every movement, before carefully pushing his rifle out of reach. Next, he tossed aside his handgun and just to be on the safe side he tossed away his biotic emitters as well, each movement reminding him of the numerous wounds that Reaper had already managed to inflict. “It’s okay,” he said softly, not the defeated tone of the man who had been ready to give up a few months ago, but the voice of a man at peace. “I know what Talon has ordered you to do.” Reaper moved then, silent and deadly and 76 didn’t flinch, not even as the tendrils of smoke curled around him or the hard metal of the shotgun pressed against his forehead, instead he leant into the touch, never lowering his gaze. “I know the memories have been haunting you… that I’ve been haunting you…weakening you. So do it, protect yourself.” _Because I can’t…_


	287. R76 + Family Breakfast

    There had been a time when they both dared to dream of a future beyond the Crisis, beyond Overwatch and Blackwatch and the distance that had slowly crept in between them. Quiet conversations late at night about the small house in the middle of nowhere, somewhere where no one would know their names, a place where they could raise a family of their own. Jack had always seen it vividly, the kitchen that bore more than a passing resemblance to his childhood home, the dog lurking beside the table in the hopes of scraps, the nameless, faceless yet much-loved children that Gabriel had spoken off late one night after a battle had left behind far too many orphans. A family home, a family breakfast, laughter and chatter in the air, the memories that haunted their sleep, the scars, never forgotten but gradually fading into the background. That was all it would ever be now, a dream, one that had burnt with them on that day of fire and ash, one that the Soldier had buried with the man he had once shared it with.


	288. Gabriel Reyes + Scars

    Gabriel wasn’t vain, he had always known that he wasn’t going to come through the Crisis and later Blackwatch unscathed, taking each scar that he gained as a badge of honour. A sign that he had survived what might have put another man in the grave. Still, it didn’t stop him from coming up short when he got his first glimpse of the scars now marring his face, and he was relieved that there was no one around to see the tremble in his fingers as he ghosted over the marks. They were raw, still healing and he knew that with time they would fade, but for now, they stood out starkly, a sign that he had survived again. They stung when he touched them, fingers curling as anger surged up because this time they were also a reminder of his failure.


	289. Gabriel Reyes + Black

    He heard the whispers, the rumours and he filed them all away behind a blank mask, along with the name and face of each person that said them. He knew that he had fanned them with his own reaction to the news that he had lost out on the promotion, words spilling out in the heat of the moment that he had quickly regretted, words that he had apologised for and words that he no longer believed. He wasn’t sure when it had changed. Maybe it had been the uniform, the black and red after the striking blue of the Strike team had been a shock, but when he had first put it on, he couldn’t help but feel it suited him better. Or maybe it had been when he started to listen when he started to watch and saw the cracks that were already seeping in and realised that he was the only one who could work against them because no one was watching him amongst the sea of blue.


	290. R76 + Churro

    He doesn’t know why he comes here anymore, why he sits at the same table that they used to sit at, or why he stumbles through with basic Spanish to ask for the sweet treat that he doesn’t even like. _That’s a lie,_ he admits as he reaches for a churro with shaking fingers, he knows exactly why he’s here, and there was a suspicious dampness beneath his visor as he glances at the empty seat opposite him. If he closed his eyes, he could see him…could see Gabe sitting there, see that daredevil grin, and bright eyes and hear the soft roll of Spanish as the other man attempted to drill more than basic words into his head. The churro was too sweet as he bit into it, painfully sweet and he closed his eyes…he came here and ate a treat he wasn’t overly fond of because he wanted to remember.


	291. R76 + Day of the Dead

    Morrison checked the time yet again, eyes narrowing as he saw that it had just crept past midnight and he took a deep breath before slipping into the cemetery, carefully avoiding the security camera as he really didn’t want to explain what he was doing here so early on the Day of the Dead. That path to Gabe’s grave was a familiar one by now, and it still pained him that it was set so far from his, no matter what the other man had done, they had been friends…and more. There were no tears now, the pain had numbed to a dull, ever-present ache in his chest over the years and his movements were steady as he reached the grave, kneeling down and setting down the bottle of tequila and plate of churros he had brought with him before glancing at the simple stone. There was nothing…a name and a date, nothing to say what the man had been and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“A little something to see you through,” he muttered gruffly, never one for eloquent speeches especially after all this time and he reached out to awkwardly pat the stone before rising to his feet, hesitating for a moment before turning and heading back the way he had come. Unaware of the smoke that had appeared when he turned away, or of the hands briefly solidifying that snatched up one of the churros with a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“Gracias…”     


	292. R76 + Soldiers

    Soldiers, the fact that they were soldiers…or that they had been soldiers, was all that remained of what they had been. It was a painful realisation, and Morrison found himself faltering, grunting as Reaper’s fist collided with his visor, cracking the display and he felt blood trickling down his face as shards cut into his cheeks. The physical pain help, it sharpened his focus and gave him something that he could use to force back the memories and the feelings that he was coming to realise no longer existed outside of those memories. Slowly he straightened, his expression hardening within the confines of his mask and he took a deep breath as he emptied his mind of everything, even the pain, even the grief that came from realising that all they were now was soldiers…enemy soldiers. It was that thought that let him lunge for Reaper…for Gabriel with nothing else in his mind but the need to defeat him and end all this.


	293. R76 + Sight

   It had been a long time since he had been able to see clearly, even with his visor it wasn’t the same, the world tinged with crimson even in times of peace. Sometimes it was better to just unplug, to plunge himself into darkness and rely on his other senses…like now. He could hear Reaper’s breathing as though he was right beside him, although he knew that the other man was still on the far side of the room, and he half-imagined that he could taste the nervousness in the air, but he wasn’t sure whether that was from him or the other man and he decided that it was better not to ask. Instead he just sat and waited, muscles tensing as he finally heard Reaper move and it was hard to fight the urge to raise his hands defensively or to flick his visor back on, but he resisted, breathing shallowly to keep himself calm…he could hear him, could feel the cool that seemed to follow him everywhere, but he still jumped when Reaper grasped his hands, the urge to lash out intensifying until the other man lifted his hands until they were resting against Reaper’s mask. Slowly, cautiously he let his fingers began to trace the mask beneath his fingertips, feeling every contour of the mask and every dent and scratch from fights, knowing that he had put more than one of them there and in his mind he could see Reaper and what he had become far more clearly than he could with his eyes.


	294. R76 + Taste

     Taste had been something he had lost when he gained his abilities, not that he was complaining, the thought of tasting the lives he reaped was even more distasteful than the fact that he had to live off others, it wasn’t that he regretted the killing just his dependence on it. Still, at times he did find himself missing the ability to taste, mainly when he was overcome with nostalgia and found himself seeking out churros even if they wouldn’t sustain him now…but now there was nothing, he could feel them melt in his mouth, and he would close his eyes and try to lose himself in the memory of what they had tasted like, but even that was fading now. That was why he froze completely when Soldier 76…no when Morrison had closed the distance between them, his mask long lost during the struggle and slammed their lips together. The kiss itself was shocking enough, but it was the taste, the taste that was uniquely Morrison that left him unable to do anything but deepen the kiss…


	295. R76 + Touch

    Reaper tensed as Morrison’s fingers trailed across the scars on his face, shivering at the sensation, unable to remember the last time someone had touched him with anything but anger or hatred. It was ironic that it would be this man who was giving him this experience, as it had been Morrison, clapping him softly on the shoulder a mere half an hour before they had fought who had been the last friendly touch he’d experienced. The memory of that day was needling him now, turning what had been a pleasant touch into something that made him recoil and he flinched back, wincing as he caught the hurt that flickered through blue eyes.

“I’m sorry…this was a mistake,” he whispered, disappearing before Morrison could say or do anything to try and stop him, but even as he fled from the room, he couldn’t escape the feeling of Morrison’s fingers on his face.


	296. R76 + Smoke

    There had been a time, back when he first joined the program that Morrison had looked at Gabriel and seen a future…an unattainable goal, like a kid trying to catch air. Then for a brief time, he had caught it, never quite alongside, at least not in his own mind…but he had been able to reach out, and for a brief time, he had been able to hold onto the other man. Then it was gone, lost in a storm of smoke, ash and blood and he was left once more looking for something unattainable…only this time it was a ghost. It was appropriate then that when he finally found him again, the other man was little more than a ghost, a living ghost…and once again he could do nothing but watch his disappear into smoke, but this time he knew he was out there, this time he had a goal, and he believed that eventually, one day he would be able to trap this ghost.


	297. R76 + Mirrors

   _How long has it been?_ Morrison asked himself as he stared into the mirror in his room, for a brief second he could see himself, an old man now he thought with a wry twist of his lips, but the image seemed to waver, and he sighed. It was always the same, he could never look at his reflection without seeing Gabriel…back in the early days of his loss it had been the image of his friend, the man he had willingly followed in battle before everything had gone wrong. However, as the years had passed and his grief and anger had twisted into one dull ache that never went away, the image had distorted and faded. It was always there, but the detail was gone, a ghost that followed his every step and he was beginning to fear that he would never find the answers that would rid him of this ghost. Although as he stretched his hand out towards the reflection, the image shimmering and fading until all he could see was himself once more, he had to wonder whether he really wanted to let it go.


	298. R76 + Broken Ribs

Morrison grunted as he slumped back against the wall, fairly sure that he had just heard some of his ribs crack and given the pain radiating through his side he swiftly changed ‘fairly sure’ to ‘certain’, grimacing as he was forced to throw himself to the side so that he could avoid Reaper’s boot. However, the pain had slowed his movements, and he found himself being slammed back against the wall, clawed fingers holding him in place, the skull-like mask far too close for comfort, and he closed his eyes as he braced himself for the final blow. Instead, he doubled over, a wheezing cry falling from his lips as Reaper slammed his elbow against his ribs, fire flooding him as he was dropped to the floor.

“Why…not just kill me?”

“I was returning a favour,” Reaper’s voice was as dispassionate as always, but there was something in the words that made Morrison freeze, his eyes widening with recognition. There had only been one fight where he had faltered, an injured foe at his feet…it had been broken ribs then as well…and he had been about to turn away, refusing to strike the final blow when it had all gone to hell…his voice when he got it to work came out as a broken croak.

“Gabe…?”


	299. R76 + Hats

He didn’t know what had made him go snooping around Morrison’s house, after all, they had both agreed that the house was neutral territory, the one place where their conflict wasn’t allowed to enter as they tried to patch up whatever the hell it was that lay between them. Part of it was boredom, the other man had arrived late from a mission and was still fast asleep and as heartless as he was now, Gabriel didn’t have the heart to disturb him when he actually looked peaceful for once…another was curiosity, and a desire to see what the man he had once known as well as he knew himself had become in the years apart. The house was depressingly bare, and he supposed in a way that matched the blank expression Morrison adopted when memories were too close to the surface, and it was only when he stepped into the guest room that he spotted something that seemed out of place. It was an old, scruffy shoebox covered in stickers and his eyes widened as he recognised it, in the past, it had always been stashed beneath the other man’s bed and filled with the most ridiculous keepsakes from their missions and holidays. He knew that it was wrong to pry, but curiosity had him across the room before he knew what he was doing, fumbling clumsily as he nudged the lid off…to find nothing but a strangely familiar hat inside, and his fingers were trembling as he reached out to brush against it.

“Is this…?”

“The only trace we could find of you in the debris…” A soft voice replied from behind him, and he turned to find a sleepy Morrison leaning on the doorway staring at the hat that he was now clutching with sad eyes.


	300. R76 + Math

    Morrison had never allowed himself to dwell on the numbers…the numbers of those lost under his command, those lost fighting for Overwatch or those that he had personally killed, knowing that the moment he did, he would no longer be able to do his job. That had all changed when everything had gone wrong, suddenly the only thing he could think about was numbers…those who had died because of the rebellion, those who had fought in the rebellion and those who had fallen when the protective umbrella of Overwatch had been removed, each number etched on his battered soul. There was, however, another number, one that he had never allowed himself to forget…76…the day they had fought it had been a vicious battle, with both of them hitting their targets and when they had pulled him out of the rubble he had been marked with six bullet wounds…while he knew that he had fired seven on target. He carried those numbers as he sought answers, and it was that number that made him stand there, gun lowered the day he came face to face with Gabriel once more. _76…_ He owed his old friend that one shot to balance the books, probably the only ledger that he could sweep clear at this point.


	301. R76 + Memories

    As he stared up into the scarred face, the lips that had once been given to constant grins now pulled into a bitter snarl, Morrison realised that it was the memory of Gabriel that he had been clinging to and not the man himself. It was like looking into the face of a stranger, and there was a dull ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the bruises now covering his torso, or the cracked ribs currently protesting under the weight of the other man. _Gabriel…_ It was those memories of happier times that was stopping from fighting back properly, even though he knew that the man he was treasuring in his heart and mind was long dead, and it was into those memories that he sank as he felt the shotgun pressing against his skin. In his mind it was Gabriel, not Reaper who he was looking at, the bitter snarl replaced by a warm grin and soft Spanish that always sent heat curling in his stomach, and that memory was the last thing he saw as his world faded to darkness a moment later.


	302. R76 + Regret

   Regret was something that Morrison knew all too well, it had been a constant companion from the moment he had received that cursed promotion…it was the feeling that tainted even his happiest memories with Gabe. It was the reason that he was here in the graveyard, kneeling on stiff knees before the unmarked grave that had been placed next to Gabriel’s, the grave where Reaper had been laid to rest barely a month before although only a couple of people knew. It was another regret that he hadn’t been able to resolve the situation between them before it led to this, that the only thing he had been able to do in the end was to lay his old l…friend to rest and come to visit him. It was regret that spilt his tears and brought a waver to his voice as he bowed his head. _It could have been me…it should have been me…_

“I’m sorry…”


	303. R76 + Empty Grave

    Reaper snarled as he stood over the empty grave, breathing heavily from the exertion of digging it out in the first place and trying to ignore the complicated mix of emotions churning in his chest. He had visited this grave numerous times, assuming that Morrison was here, believing that he had died that day…he had even allowed himself to mourn in rare moments of weakness. Then a week ago he had glimpsed Soldier 76 without his visor, and it had been like looking at a ghost, and suddenly one of the foundations that he had been working from had been knocked out from beneath him. Still, it had taken him a week to get here, a week to summon up the courage to look for himself, and now he didn’t know how to feel. There was anger and betrayal and a concern about what this could mean for his revenge, but beneath that, there was a softer, foreign feeling and it was only when he felt dampness on his cheeks that he realised what that feeling was.

_I’m glad you’re still alive…_


	304. R76 + Letters

    It had begun a month after they had learned of each other’s survival, Reaper had returned to one of his safe houses to discover a letter waiting for him on the bed, there was no postage mark or writing on the envelope, but he recognised the scrawl inside at once. _Morrison…_ It didn’t say much, not even brushing the issues that lay between them but he knew that it wasn’t supposed to, it was an offer, a hand held out in invitation, offering them a way to talk that was separate from their conflicts on the battlefield. The letter stayed in his pocket for months afterwards as he wrestled with whether he wanted to reach out and take that hand, and what he wanted to say. _He waited too long…_

    It was quiet the morning he slipped into the cemetery, checking that no one else was around to see before making his way to the grave that he knew was no longer empty. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have the words to say aloud, but instead, he set a bulky letter down on the grave…a letter than said everything that had been unbroken from the moment they had begun to drift apart, till the day his bullets had torn the other man apart and finishing with three small words.

_I’m Sorry, Farewell…_


	305. R76+ Unspoken

The air between them was thick with unspoken words the day they met to finish everything, and Morrison opened his mouth intending to at least try and put something into words, but then his mouth snapped shut again. It had been Gabriel with his bright grin and soft voice which had always been the best with words, but that talent had disappeared into shadow along with his smile, and he knew that whatever words he managed to choke out wouldn’t make a difference now. He had always been a man of action, and he had a feeling that was the only thing that would reach Gabe…no Reaper at this stage, and so gazing steadily at the intimidating mask he reached out and let his weapon fall to the ground with a clatter, before reaching up and carefully removing his visor and dropping it to the ground as well. The other man had frozen, the tension growing in the air between them and Morrison sighed, before taking a step away from his equipment and slowly spreading his arms in a clear sign of surrender, and he waited, staring silently at Reaper. He didn’t have the words that needed to be spoken, but he could see from the way his old friend was shifting from one side to the other, fingers clenching around his gun that his message had got across.

_What is it that you want to do? I won’t stop you, either way, …this is my repentance…_


	306. R76 + Kitty!76

    Reaper sighed as he let himself into the safe-house, weariness dogging his every step and a nasty gash on his arm, sending flashes of pain through his arm with every movement he made. However, those feelings seemed to melt away a moment later as he caught sight of the figure curled up on the centre of the bed, tail flicking under the force of whatever dream was plaguing him at the moment and ears laid flat amongst white hair. Quietly he made his way across to the bed, sinking down carefully in an attempt to avoid disturbing the soldier, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to thread his fingers through the short white hair, brushing against the soft fur of the ears and feeling his lips twitch upwards. He had no idea how the other man managed to find him every time, but he found himself unable to complain, feeling himself relaxing as a low purr rumbled through the room as his ministrations helped to ease Morrison out of whatever dream had been plaguing him. These moments were rare, and he knew that he would probably end up getting hissed at when the other man woke, even though right now the purring was intensifying as his tail snaked up to wrap around Reaper’s wrist and he sighed before lying down beside the other man. It might be brief, but he was going to treasure the peace while he could.


	307. R76 + Sunshine

    Morrison still hadn’t got used to waking in the tiny room with its single bed, a bed which despite its bed still felt huge and empty and nearly every day he would roll over and look hopefully for a lingering impression that would indicate someone had laid there. Just as on some mornings when he would wake to a small sound, he would turn bleary eyes towards the doorway and for a split second, he would see Gabe lounging against the doorframe grinning at him and holding out a cup of coffee to tempt him out of bed with a soft.

“Good Morning Sunshine,” lingering in the air.

   Those mornings were the worst because as the sleep cleared from his mind, he would find himself staring at empty air with silence ringing in his ears because there was no one there to smile at him or to tease him. On those days it was hard to remember his mission and why he kept going, and he would roll over away from the empty doorway and close his eyes as he tried to pretend that the bed wasn’t just as empty.


	308. R76 + Scars

    Reaper sighed as he studied the sleeping figure currently occupying his bed, still not sure what had possessed him to haul Morrison out of the battle once the other man had gone down hard. He should have taken the opportunity to remove one of the biggest thorns in his plan; instead he had dragged the soldier back here and taken care of his injuries. That had been an experience…he was still stunned to know that the other man had survived the explosion, although he knew that he shouldn’t have been so surprised, after all, he had survived against the odds as well…but somehow he had been unprepared for the tapestry of scars covering the younger man’s body. In all the time they had worked together, Morrison had scraped through with minimal injuries, that had clearly changed…or rather the cautious side of his nature seemed to have changed because while many of the marks must’ve come from the explosion, there were newer scars on top of them. His movements were hesitant as he reached out to trace the path of the scars, keeping his touch deliberately light so as not to disturb the solider, not wanting to explain what he was doing. Not even sure what he was doing, or why there was a dull ache in his chest at the sight of what his former friend had survived when he should be relieved at the thought that sooner or later the other man would wind up getting himself killed, solving his problem without him having to raise a finger.


	309. R76 + 5 o’clock shadow

_Gabriel…Gabe…he’s still alive…_ That thought had been going around and around his head, since he’d finally caught a glimpse of the face beneath Reaper’s mask, and he was still no closer to working out how he felt about it. Once upon a time, he knew that there would have nothing but relief and happiness to know that his former partner had survived as well, but now there was a dull ache and a mess of confused feelings that he didn’t want to face. His steps were heavy as he moved across the room, shedding his weapons and armour as he went until he was standing over the tiny basin crammed in the corner, hesitantly lifting his face to study his reflection. There was no trace of the young man who had fallen for Gabriel and who had dared dream of a future for them beyond Overwatch…he looked and felt old, his face lined with wrinkles that hadn’t been there a few years ago, scars from that day and a 5 o’clock shadow that Gabriel would have teased him about in the past. He was no longer that Morrison though, and staring into his own haunted eyes, he realised that he had no idea how this new version felt about the man that he had loved…the man that had destroyed everything.


	310. R76 + Pitch Black

   Morrison had got used to seeing the world in gradually fading shades of grey, everything tainted with the colour of blood because of his visor. It was strange, but at least he could still see…could still fight…even though he had no idea how much longer that would last. That answer to that question came a few months later as he lay sprawled on the ground, wounded and disarmed with Reaper leaning over him, both weapons aimed at him as though he had anywhere to go. _So this is it…_ It was appropriate that his end was going to come at the hands of this man, as he had finally discovered who Reaper was weeks before and despite the situation and the pain radiating through his body his lips curled into a smile.

“Do it…Gabriel…” As expected that got a reaction, just not the one he was expecting. Rather than the retort of the guns pointing at him, his last vision before the world turned black was of a dark boot slamming into the blood-red of his visor…it was the only colour that he could recall when he woke to a life of darkness a few days later.


	311. R76 + Ice Cream

    Reaper was less than impressed as he slipped into the ice-cream parlour, steadfastly ignoring the worried looks that other patrons sent his direction as he headed for the smirking soldier in the corner, missing the anonymity of his mask.

“Why would you suggest somewhere like this?” He growled as he sank into the seat opposite Morrison, wishing that he could have just refused to come, but he had been promised information, and as much as he hated to admit it, at this stage he would take help from wherever he could get it…even if the help was coming from guilt rather than an actual desire to help.

“I figured that even you wouldn’t shoot out an ice cream parlour,” Morrison replied bluntly, and Reaper straightened somewhat impressed that the younger man finally seemed to have grasped what he was capable of now…although there was an undercurrent of sadness to that thought, right up until the solider pushed a bowl of ice cream towards him with a teasing grin. “Besides…you always did like sweet stuff.”


	312. R76 + Growing Old

    He was old and getting older by the day…perhaps that was why he could see Gabriel again. No longer the masked form of Reaper, but the softly grinning face of the man he had fallen in love decades before. So far it was just brief glimpses, a small smile here or there, a flicker behind him when he looked in the mirror or a flash of tanned skin out of the corner of his eyes. He knew that in a way those glimpses were a bad sign, but after years of isolation and loneliness, he welcomed them and it gave him hope that the other man had been waiting for him.

“I’ll be seeing you soon,” he murmured the next time he caught a glimpse of the other man, and for a moment the image in the mirror behind him solidified, and he caught the sadness behind the small smile before Gabriel disappeared once more.

_Yeah…I’ll be waiting…_


	313. R76 + Ammunition

“You seem unusually quiet Soldier 76…” Reaper’s voice was mocking as he circled the solider, hiding the uneasy feeling that had engulfed him ever since the start of the fight and the unusual absence of insults and pleas that usually rained down on him when he fought the younger man. “Have you finally given up on me?” _Why does that thought hurt so much?_

 _No,_ Morrison wanted to reply…wanted to point out that he hadn’t given up, and that he had no intention of giving up until one of them took that final step…but he swallowed back the words. Everything he said or did these days was turned against him, each word or action fresh ammunition for the Reaper to turn against him and he had already suffered enough wounds at the hands of the other man. He could see how the other man shifted uneasily under his silent gaze, and a grim smile tugged at his lips…so silence was his ammunition?


	314. R76 + Forgiveness

“I forgave you,” Morrison said softly, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he saw Reaper pause in the doorway and he hesitated for a moment before reaching up and removing his visor. He could see the other man turning just enough to glance back at him, and his lips quirked up in a slightly bitter smile. “I forgave you the moment that I awoke to find that there was nothing left of you, but that grave…” _An empty grave…_

“No, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I…”

“You forgave Gabriel,” Reaper cut him off harshly. “That man is in that grave…no matter what his body does now,” there was pain in those last words, and Morrison didn’t have anything to say to ease that pain, unable to do anything but watch as the man who both was and wasn’t the man he had loved disappeared out of the door without a backwards glance.


	315. R76 + Peace

“You missed,” Reaper taunted as he reformed after the rockets had passed through his vaporous form, cackling as he brought both guns to bear on Morrison, his eyes narrowing as he realised that the Soldier didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. “Are you ready to die, Jack? Ready to enjoy the peace I should have given you back then?”  He was caught by surprise as Morrison suddenly shot to his feet once more, the soldier abandoning his weapon in the process before tackling him and wrapping his arms around him and he froze mid-vaporisation at the soldier’s words.

“I’m giving us both peace…”

    The moment of hesitation cost him, and he had a moment to realise that he had underestimated Morrison as the rockets he had dodged before were reflected from behind them…and yet as the world around them turned to flames and pain, there was an odd sense of relief that at least time they really would be going together.


	316. R76 + Seaside

    Reaper’s steps were heavy as he made his way down the beach, for once completely in this world, grounded by the small metal urn cradled in his arms. He had cast off his armour and mask for this task, gritting his teeth as he heard the whispers that followed him and caught the fearful looks from the people on the beach…he knew that he was a terrifying sight, and the only person who had been able to accept his scarred face was gone now. Ignoring the people around him and quelling the part of him that wanted nothing more than to tear them apart, he carried on down the beach, taking a meandering route towards the quieter end of the beach where he would be disturbed…apart from the memories that were pressing in on him. They had come to this beach on their days off, spending long days lazing on the sand or tussling in the shallows and he found himself blinking back tears now as he let his feet carrying him down to where the waves were just kissing the sand. He fumbled with the lid of the urn for a moment, his fingers trembling as he recalled the feel of Morrison’s life slipping away beneath those same fingers only days before and he had to take a deep breath before removing the lid, tilting the urn so that the ashes could take flight in the wind as a single tear trickled down his cheek.

“Farewell…Jack.”


	317. Reaper76 + Reunion

    He had been doing his best to avoid Reaper ever since he had connected the dots between the mercenary and his old…friend, not ready to face up to that can of worms, even though he had been overwhelmed with relief at the thought that Gabriel had survived as well. Which was why he was completely unprepared for the current situation…sprawled on his back with his gun just out of reach, and a crack running down the centre of his visor sending all the readings into a spin…more concerning was the dark boot resting on cracked ribs, twin shotguns pointed unwaveringly at his head. To be honest, this was pretty much how he had imagined a reunion between them would go, he just hadn’t been expecting it to happen anytime soon, and he swallowed thickly as he stared up at the mask, wishing that he could see Gabriel’s face. That thought dissolved in a wave of pain as Reaper pressed harder on his ribs, and he couldn’t quite stop the hiss of pain that slipped free, tensing as a dark laugh rang out above him, clawed fingers tightening alarmingly on the triggers.

“Farewell, Jack…” Jack froze at those words, eyes widening with horror behind his visor…Gabriel knew? He knew that he was alive? That he was Soldier 76…of course he did…he had never been able to pull the wool over the other man’s eyes before, and a bitter smile pulled at his lips…this reunion was everything that it should have been he thought before his world disappeared in pain and the echoing retort of the shotguns.


	318. Reaper76 + Reassurance

    His visor and gun had been tossed to the side and completely forgotten, his gloves somewhere behind him as he reached desperately for Reaper…for Gabriel, shuddering as the cool smoke brushed against his skin. When Gabriel had first begun to disappear, he had thought that it was the normal tactics, but then the other man had fallen to his knees, tossing his mask aside and letting Jack see the alarmed expression that lay beneath it…and now a chill swept over him at the thought that he might be about to lose the other man, even though they were nothing more than enemies at this point.

“Rea…Gabe,” his voice caught softly, and he faltered for a minute as crimson eyes met his gaze and he took a deep breath before finally grabbing the other man, relieved that there were still some solid parts to grab hold of. “Calm down,” he winced as he automatically slipped into his old commander voice, catching the scowl that met his words, but he forced himself to continue as he felt the other man’s breathing speeding up. “You need to calm down; help is on the way…” He wasn’t sure who was trying to reassure more at the moment, panic gripping him as more and more of Gabriel dissolved under his hands, and he swallowed thickly as he saw the bitter acceptance in the other man’s hands. “It’s going to be okay…It’s going to be okay.”


	319. Reaper76 + Cuddle

Jack drifted awake to the feeling of warm arms wrapped around his midriff, holding him firmly in place and keeping him trapped against the solid chest that was pressed up against his back and a small smile crept across his face. Gabriel had always been one for cuddles, although he was fairly sure no one would believe him if said that…and he had half expected that trait to disappear after everything they had gone through, but no, every morning he would wake in the same position. It warmed him to know that somethings hadn’t changed even after everything had broken between them and years of working as enemies, but it wasn’t the same easy warmth he had felt in the early days of their relationship, because he knew that part of these cuddles was a fear that he would disappear. It was the same reason he hesitated when seeing Gabriel off on missions…the way his hands would linger as though he intended to reach out and drag him back. They had lost too much, and come too far in a roundabout way to get to this point for either of them to have faith in this new situation…but now he reached down and laid his hands on top of Gabriel’s, wanting to savour the situation for a moment at least.    


	320. R76 + Echoes

   It was eerie moving through the empty rooms and corridors of the old Overwatch base, it had been a little-used one at the height of the organisation’s power, but he had known every inch of it and even now the floor was covered in rubble and the walls were filled with gaping holes it felt like home. Soldier 76 paused for a moment as he stepped into the main corridor, his grip on the Pulse rifle loosening for a moment as he stared around…if he closed his eyes for a moment, he could be transported back to the time when this corridor had been filled with light, back to when he had been walking down it with Gabriel at his side, their relationship…and friendship as yet untouched by politics and bad choices. _Why did I come here?_ He had told himself that it was worthwhile checking out the base, but deep down, he had known that there would be nothing here…nothing but echoes of happier times, and yet he had come, and now he was leaving with nothing but a deep ache in his chest and a wish that they could have stayed like they were in that memory, closing his eyes against the memory of a smiling Gabriel.


	321. R76 + Ghost

    A Ghost…Reaper had been so certain that he was facing a ghost, and yet the man beneath him was made of solid flesh, ragged breathing filling the air as he fought to get free. His clawed fingers tightened around his captive’s arms for a moment, trapping him in place and he growled under his breath as he waited for the Soldier to realise the futility of his efforts before reaching up and nudging off the tactical visor covering his face.

“You’re dead…” It felt like all the breath had been forced from his lungs, his voice a low whisper, torn between fury, hurt and hope as he stared at the scarred face beneath unable to resist reaching out and running a clawed finger down one of Morrison’s cheeks. This was not the golden boy of Overwatch…this wasn’t the man he had fallen in love…the man beneath him both was and wasn’t a ghost, and Reaper hated the fact that someone like that could have so much power over his reactions, his breath catching as blue eyes met his as a wry grin passed over Morrison’s face.

“So are you…”


	322. R76 + Reap

    There had been times in the early days of his life as Reaper, that he had hesitated when it came to collecting the souls of those he had killed…but that hesitation had faded, burned away along with the disgust over who, or rather what he had become…destroyed by the anger and hatred that pushed him onwards. However, as he loomed over the fallen form of Soldier 76…of Morrison, he found himself faltering even as he studied the wisp that represented his former…everything’s soul, clawed hands stretching out towards it before he halted once more. He had learned of Morrison’s survival months ago, and yet despite the storm of emotions that realisation had brought, he hadn’t faltered when he finally got the other man unarmed and helpless in his sights…so why was this different? He had reaped the souls of former allies before… _but he wasn’t just an ally,_ a small voice pointed out at the back of his mind, and he growled softly, hating how it sounded like Jack scolding him and with a sigh he reached out and swiped through the wisp, causing the soul to dissipate unharmed.

“Be at peace…”


	323. Reaper76 + Forgiveness

     Reaper groaned as he drifted towards awareness, a bitter chuckle welling up as he realised that he was still alive even though the last thing he could remember was Morrison’s helix rockets shooting past him and the world collapsing in on them… _I’m still alive._

“It’s about time you woke up,” the gruff voice made him jump, and he cursed himself for getting distracted before tilting his head to the side to find Morrison sat beside him, his eyes narrowing behind his mask as he took in the bandages covering the other man before looking down at himself. He still hurt, but it seemed as though the worst of his injuries had healed…understanding dawned a moment later as he spied the biotic emitter sat on the ground beside him.

“Why?” _Why help me? Why heal me? You could have paid me back...you could have ended all this?_

“Do you really need the words?” This time it was Jack that he was faced with as the other man climbed stiffly to his feet, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned and headed for the door, pausing for a moment as he glanced back at Reaper clearly sensing the confusion behind the mask. “I forgave you a long time ago…letting you fall now would be pointless.”


	324. Reaper76 + Anger

     Gabriel’s temper had always had the shorter fuse, burning sudden and hot…and yet able to remain alight for days if not weeks, and more than once Morrison had feared what that anger could become…now he knew, he thought as he watched Reaper moving through his team, the twin shotguns tearing everything in his path to shreds. There had been a time when he had feared that anger even before it was finally turned towards him, but now he found himself just exhausted…weary of the anger…the pain…Taking a deep breath, he set his gun on the floor, hesitating for a moment before removing his tactical visor and mask and laying them beside it, he wouldn’t need them for this. They had been fighting for too long, and every time he slipped away he knew that he was only fanning the flames of the other man’s fury…and it was the other agents that were paying the price. _I’m sorry everyone,_ he thought, hoping that with his death some of that anger would be abated, at least long enough to give Overwatch the time it needed to regroup, trusting that they would be able to stop Reaper and clinging to that thought he stepped out into the open with a small smile.

“Hello, Gabriel…”


	325. Reaper76 + Redemption

   He felt cold, and not the kind of cold that came from being a wraith…from using his powers…but a deep-seated chill that sank in and trapped him in place, locking him in his solid form and a bitter chuckle whistled through his lips as he turned his gaze to the man cradling him.

“Soldier…Jack,” he couldn’t call the man by his new name, not now, not when Jack was holding him so tenderly…as though there was no pain, no anger, no hatred between them…it was as though the past had just melted away, and it hurt that it had taken this much for it to happen. “I’m sorry…” Jack shook his head, tears on his cheeks as he rested his head against his, fingers rising to brush over the scars covering his face.

“Don’t…”

“Did…did I at least redeem myself?” Gabriel knew that it was selfish to ask, and that had been the last thing on his mind when he had flung himself in front of the other man to protect him, but he couldn’t keep the note of pleading out of his voice.  “Just a little…?”


	326. McCree & Reaper76 + Family

“Why?” There was a whole list of things that McCree wanted to say to Reaper…to Reyes…but now that the other man was actually in front of him, twin shotguns aimed unwaveringly at his head, that was the only one that he found himself capable of asking, and it was probably the only one he needed to ask… _why are you doing any of this? Why did you become like this? Why are you coming after us? After me?_

“You chose your side,” Reaper’s voice was cold, devoid of the warmth that McCree had always associated with the man in the past and there was a dull ache at that lost, and for a moment the Cowboy closed his eyes…yes, he had chosen a side…and it wasn’t Reaper’s…but up until now he had hoped that there was something of their old relationship still left to salvage, willing to hold his shots if it meant that he would get the chance to help the man who once upon a time had been everything.

“So?” McCree already knew that his words were likely to fall on deaf ears, but he had to try…even if it was just out of sheer stubbornness. “What side we’re on shouldn’t matter…we’re still family aren’t we? Just like you always told me?”


	327. McCree & Reaper76 + Childhood

McCree honestly didn’t know what to make of Commander Reyes…from the moment the older man had stormed into the detention cell demanding to know how old he was, tearing through any and all attempts he meant to lie, he had been an enigma. He knew that the only reason he was being given this chance was his age, and in a way, he could understand…he knew that his life with the Deadlock Gang hadn’t been what a kid was supposed to do, but at the time it had been the only path he could see…but what he couldn’t understand was why the older man was going out of his way to do more. He couldn’t understand why on their days off he would find himself being dragged off his base by the older man, Reyes dragging him to the cinema…bowling…to the fair just outside of time. He couldn’t understand the scoldings he received for the most mundane things, like his diet, his liking for late nights and his inability to keep his quarters in any kind of order…especially when the others never got scolded for those things, and some of them were far worse than him. He also couldn’t understand the pain in Reyes’ eyes the day he summoned up the courage to ask why he was doing these things…ort the quiet reply that had followed.

“I was hoping to give you a taste of childhood…”

_Why? What good would it do now?_


	328. R76 + Hardboiled

     Reaper watched with intrigued eyes as the Soldier tense again, trembling as he spread his thighs further, hips canting towards the bed as he bore down once more. It wasn’t the intended result…depositing his eggs in Jack had been a way for him to claim the other man completely, to tie them together…but he had miscalculated, forgetting just how high the temperature of a super-soldier was and how cool his own wraith form was an impossible contrast. The eggs hadn’t stood a chance, boiling within the furnace of Jack’s body and making it impossible for Reaper to retrieve them in the usual fashion, and he couldn’t help but grin as his partner gritted his teeth, visibly pushing as hard as he could and a moment later Jack moaned, a soft noise that held pain, relief and what the older man liked to imagine was a hint of pleasure as one of the hardened eggs slid free. Curiosity had him moving forward, reaching out to ghost his fingers over the egg, losing himself in its warmth for a moment before he realised that Jack was looking at him, breathing heavily as he braced himself for the next one and Reaper let his expression soften, reaching out to brush aside sweaty silver hair.

“Keep going mi luna…”


	329. R76 + Sunny side up

“Morning sunshine.” The smugness beneath the cheerful greeting was enough to jolt Jack out of his sleepy haze, eyes narrowing as he studied Gabriel, not liking the mischief simmering in the dark eyes… a feeling that was confirmed a moment later when the bastard held up a carton of eggs with a grin, a grin that only grew as Jack felt himself turning crimson. “Eggs for breakfast? I was thinking sunny side up…”

“I am going to kill you,” Jack growled, highly aware of the others in the dining room and holding back the urge to say anything else, although he also took a wary step backwards…the older man didn’t tend to have the same sense of public decency, and the mischievous glint was shifting towards something decidedly more devious.

“That’s not what you said last night,” Gabriel retorted, eyes deliberately tracking lower and Jack backed up again…wondering just how red he could turn when he felt himself stirring again, wanting to curse his body for reacting so easily to the other’s teasing and weird kinks, unable to stop his eyes from darting to the carton of eggs. _Shit…_


	330. R76 + Scrambled

“Jack?” Gabriel asked as he slipped into their room, relieved to spot the familiar figure huddled in the bed, although he frowned when Jack didn’t so much as acknowledge his presence. The fear that had flooded him when he had realised that the other man wasn’t in either the infirmary after getting tossed around during the mission, or the briefing about the failure their mission had been, returned with a vengeance, and he hastily crossed the room and settled on the edge of the bed. “Mi luna? Are you…?” He cut himself off as Jack finally moved, head moving in a nearly non-existent nod and he swallowed thickly. _What’s was going on…?_

 Slowly, as though he was afraid to move Jack rolled over to face him, squinting up at him without his visor…but even that did nothing to hide the pain, the fear and guilt on his face…but before Gabriel could demand any answers, Jack had taken his hand, guiding it down to where just a few hours before there had been a small bump, the only outward sign of the gift Gabriel had given him last night and understanding dawned and he closed his eyes. “Jack…it doesn’t…”

“It does! I promised to take care of them…but…” Jack cut him off, more frantic than he had ever heard him, and Gabriel was stunned into silence…the other man hadn’t seemed as into this as he was, but there was no sign of that indifference now.  “They’re still in there…I can feel it…but they’re broken, scrambled…I’m sorry…”

“Mi luna…”


	331. Gabe/Jack + Hardboiled

“YES!” Gabriel was triumphant as he crossed the makeshift finish line a good few feet ahead of Jack, turning to grin triumphantly at the other man. “I think that’s my win!”

“Uncle Jack?” Fareeha who had been cheering them on from the side came running up, and there was a glint to her eyes that Gabriel didn’t like…it reminded him too much of her mother when Ana was about to do something he didn’t like…a feeling that was proved right a moment later when she promptly latched onto Jack who had come to a halt and was now looking at her expectantly. “Uncle Gabe boiled his egg…”

“Fareeha!” Gabe yelped, he’d thought that he’d been alone when he was doing that, and he hastily hid his egg and spoon when he saw blue eyes narrowing in his direction. “Jack…I…”

“Will be sleeping on the sofa tonight,” Jack finished for him, expression grim, although there was a sparkle in his eyes as he turned his attention to their charge. “Come on Fareeha, I’m sure we still have some ice-cream in the freezer.”


	332. Gabe/Jack + Sunny side up

“Rise and shine sunshine,” Jack grumbled under his breath, wondering how Gabriel could sound so awake and happy at this time of the morning and debating whether it was worth ignoring him or not. He had just decided it wasn’t worth it, remembering what had happened last time he had tried to go back to sleep and ignore his partner when the older man settled on the edge of the bed. “Come on mi sol,” the soft tone was enough to coax him to open his eyes; however, it was the sight of the tray in Gabriel’s hands and the scent tickling his nose that had him sitting upright…albeit blearily, and it took him a couple of attempts to get his voice to work.

“Breakfast in bed?”

“Toast and Eggs, sunny side up,” Gabriel replied with a grin, and Jack was torn between leaning in to kiss the older man good morning and grabbing the food…the decision being taken out of his hands when Gabe leant in to capture his lips before surrendering the tray with a satisfied grin as the blond blinked up at him.


	333. Gabe/Jack + Scrambled

     Gabriel blinked, too stunned to do anything for a moment as he stared across at Jack before slowly reaching up to brush the scrambled eggs off his cheek…he knew that he had probably deserved it by edging too close to private issues while the others were in hearing range, but he couldn’t believe that the blond had actually thrown an egg at him.

“Did you just…?” He was cut off by more egg hitting his face, spluttering as some landed in his mouth before his eyes narrowed…he hadn’t deserved it this time…and he could see that the irritation in the blue eyes had been replaced by mischief. “Jack…” He growled, vaguely aware of the others backing away as he reached for his spoon and ducking as Jack threw more egg at him, immediately sitting up and launching his own volley. “It’s on!”


	334. Gabe/Jack + Devilled

“Very smooth,” Jack teased, laughing as he reached up to wipe at the mess covering his cheek. Gabriel had tried to be romantic and feed him one of the devilled eggs, only to miss spectacularly and smear it across his face instead…the shock quickly giving way to amusement when he heard the older man spluttering apologies.

“Sorry mi sol,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck before suddenly a mischievous grin spread across his lips and he leant in.  “Let me clean that up.”  It took Jack longer than it should’ve to realise what he had planned, eyes widening at the sight of Gabriel’s tongue darting out and he shot back with a yelp, that immediately turned into a scowl. “Jack…”

“I should have known your aim wasn’t that bad…”


	335. R76 + Greedy

      They were both selfish…both greedy…Jack knew this, just as he knew that was all that was left of their relationship now, just as he knew that he was the worst of the two and that he hated it. Hated the fact that he needed this, his arms snaking around Gabriel’s waist and pulling him closer, clinging to him as though he still had the right to hold him close…to hold him as though they were still in love, still so close that they had thought that nothing could come between them. He closed his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to Gabriel’s shoulder, eyes opening as he felt a scar that he hadn’t felt before beneath his lips...pain lancing through him as he realised that he didn’t even know when it had happened, and suddenly Gabriel’s skin felt like it was burning and he released him with a gasp, rolling to the other side of the bed as his eyes began to sting.

“Jack…?”

“I’m sorry…” It was an apology for so many things, too many things…and he felt the air grow cold as it always did when one of them muttered those words these days, and he closed his eyes. _I’m sorry, Gabriel…_


	336. R76 + Nibble

Gabriel had always loved the taste of Jack’s skin, loved leaving marks against the pale expanse, especially in places that were hard to hide…wanting the world to know that the blond was his, that he was taken. For all his complaints and protests and the efforts he would often go to in an attempt to hide the marks, Jack never stopped him when he started, often tilting his head to give him better access or pressing closer with a knowing expression.

    It was one thing that had never changed he realised, pinning Soldier 76 against the wall, staring at the face that had been revealed during their fight…it was different, older…scarred, the once brilliant blue eyes dull and unfocused…but it was Jack, and despite everything that happened, despite the hatred he had thought he felt towards the other man, he felt other, warmer emotions stirring. _Jack…_ Reaching up with one hand, he removed his mask and let it fall to the side, reassured when Jack’s gaze didn’t track the movement, before leaning in…it was nothing like back then, there was no passion, no heat and his teeth barely grazed the surface, little more than a nibble on the side of the younger’s neck…but it was enough to leave a mark, enough to claim Jack once more and enough to make the other man freeze, breath catching in his throat before he murmured a name that Reaper hadn’t heard in years.

“Gabe…?”


	337. R76 + Inhale

“Breathe damn it,” Reaper growled under his breath as he pulled back for a moment, hating the way his heart was constricting at the sight of Morrison’s still face…at the feel of the chest beneath his hands that were no longer rising and falling as it should be…at the blood soaking the younger man’s side from where his gun had found its mark. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, their fights since they had realised who the other person was had been more like a deadly dance than a real attempt to kill each other, and he had been caught by surprise when the Soldier hadn’t quite managed to move out of the way this time. “Morrison… Jack, don’t you dare die on me.”

    A horrible, desperate thought occurred to him, and he faltered…there was too much left unspoken between them, too much left to deal with and he had no idea if this would work, or if the other man would hate him for it…but he couldn’t lose him, not like this. Gathering his courage, he leant down, pressing their lips together and pushing his smoke…smoke-filled with healing nanites into the other’s mouth, willing it down into Jack’s lungs, stomach churning as he waited for something to happen…willing the other man to breathe, to inhale, to live...

_Jack…_


	338. R76 + Shackles

     Gabriel watched from the sidelines, sharp eyes taking in the invisible shackles that bound Jack …shackles that were growing tighter by the day, twining around the blond until it was hard to tell where the Strike Commander ended and his puppet masters began. His hands itched to reach for his guns, to lash out, to break those shackles once and for all…he could do it too, he had the skill, and he knew that his agents would stand behind him, but would Jack thank him? Once upon a time he would have had the answer to that question just by looking at the younger man, once upon a time he would have been right there at Jack’s side, a barrier that would’ve kept the shackles at bay…that time was long gone, but he had never mourned it as much as he did right now.  The need to act, to do something grew as he watched the empty blue eyes, the hollow smile and listened to the hollower tone…the words so far removed from what the Jack Morrison he had known would say, that it felt like he was listening to a stranger, and after a moment he had to turn away.

_I promise…I will find a way to cut those shackles._


	339. R76 + Like a bird

     Jack’s eyes narrowed behind the visor as he caught a glimpse of the familiar figure of Reaper working his way through the battle raging below, dancing a familiar death dance, shotguns flashing as he cut a path through the hapless gang who had made the mistake of crossing Talon. He had been tracking an old lead, but the bloodbath was already started when he had arrived, and caution had stayed his hand, fingers tensing on the rifle as he contemplated his options…but he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Reaper’s figure. There were moments, little mannerisms that reminded him painfully of Gabriel… but they were few and far between; instead the man’s movements reminded him far more of a predatory bird, circling above his unwary prey as he faded to smoke…only to dive with deadly speed and accuracy from the darkness. His fingers twitched against the trigger, he had a line of sight, he could shoot to kill…but the Reaper wasn’t his target this time, and he had fought the man often enough to know that if he were a hair too slow it would be a fight to the death…his mission was a failure already, there was no reason to risk his life, and slowly he forced his fingers away as he rose to his feet, taking one last look at the deadly dance before turning away. _Maybe next time…_


	340. R76 + Ownership

    He wanted to curse, but he didn’t even have the energy for that, all his strength going into the fight to stay conscious as he slowly hauled his battered body into a semi-upright position. There was no way he could fight like this, SEP enhancements or not, but there was no way he was going to die sprawled in a pool of his own blood…defenceless…not that he felt any less vulnerable sat up, even as he pulled the burnt-out remains of his Pulse Rifle across his front. _I’m going to die,_ it wasn’t a question any more, just a cold inevitability settling over him like a heavy blanket and despite himself, he found himself closing his eyes as he saw the guns coming to bear on him once more.

“Death Comes.” That wasn’t a voice he had expected to hear, his eyes jolting open at the familiar sound of the shotguns firing, watching with increasingly blurry vision as his attacks disappeared, their blood joining his on the ground…and his sight had been reduced to little more than a dark blur, when he detected movement beside him, and he was helpless to resist as cool fingers tilted his head as a sigh rang out above him. “You’re mine, mi Luna. Your life and your death, they both belong to me…I won’t let you die before then.”


	341. R76 + Linger

    He couldn’t leave… There was nothing left for him here, the headquarters were in ruins and surrounded by investigators and the media, and his death had already been announced. No one knew that he was out here, just out of sight, struggling to heal from his wounds and only a pilfered visor giving him limited vision…. but he couldn’t leave. Gabe’s death had been announced alongside his, and he vaguely remembered the other man being there when the world had come down around his ears, but he hadn’t been able to find him when he regained consciousness…his blind searching through the rubble before he had fled had yielded nothing, and that was why he lingered. He knew what the news said…what the reports said…that they were both dead men, but here he was, battered…broken…but alive, and it seemed inconceivable to him that he would survive and Gabe wouldn’t. It wasn’t possible, and so he lingered and watched and hoped….


	342. R76 + Just the tip

Gabriel paused as he felt Jack stiffening beneath him, a sour note entering the beautiful scent he loved so much, and he scowled before leaning down to rest his head against the blond’s shoulder, nuzzling him softly with his nose. The urge to continue, to push in was nearly overwhelming as it had taken them a long time to get to this point, but he sternly quashed that thought…he had been wary when an agitated Jack had practically yanked him into the bedroom, but he hadn’t been able to deny the younger man anything…he hadn’t wanted to.

“Relax Mi Corazon,” he urged, feeling Jack take a shuddering breath as the omega tried to obey, but whatever had set him off seemed reluctant to let him go, and he sighed when he felt the blond tensing instead. “We can stop.” A small part of his mind was snarling at his words, but he ignored it, closing his eyes to stop himself being overwhelmed by the feel of Jack around him…he was barely inside, but it was already too much, and it took far more effort than he wanted to admit to getting his voice to work again, relieved when it came out soft and calm. “Jack…what do you want to do?”    


	343. R76 + Massage

     Gabriel couldn’t contain his pleased groan as Jack’s fingers dug into the tight knots in his shoulders, the blond instinctively finding the worse ones and setting to work on them, the older man practically boneless as he slumped against the table with a soft moan.

“Gabe! Shh!” Jack hissed in alarm, although his fingers never faltered and when Gabriel tilted his head to glance up at the other man, he was amused to see the blush that was creeping across his face.

“What’s wrong, Cariño?” He deliberately lowered his voice, using the same tone that he would use when they were alone in the safety of their quarters, and he felt Jack jolt at the tone, fingers digging in painfully for a moment as the blond sucked in a sharp breath. Gabriel grinned at the response, loving the fact that Jack was just as easy to wind up as always even after years in the military, and leaning back into the massage he couldn’t resist going in for the kill. “I thought you liked my noises.”

“Not in the office!”


	344. Reaper76 + Proposal

    It’s not the most romantic setting and certainly nothing like the ideas he’s been working on for months now, but with fear still pumping through his veins at the realisation of just how close he’d come to losing Gabriel, there’s no way he’s going to wait. He fidgets as he watches Angela finishing up, managing to focus enough to hear her reassurances that the other man is going to be just fine…to see the slightly smug grin that flickers over Gabriel’s voice as he glances at him, but apart from that everything goes over his head and in the end, it's Gabriel clearing his voice that drags him back to the present.

“Gabe…?”

“What’s going on in that head of yours? Your antsier than you were on our first mission,” Gabriel is teasing, he’s nearly always teasing, but there’s a softness to it that tells Jack he’s genuinely worried and he sighs, moving closer to the bed, letting his eyes rove over the bandages hiding the wounds that nearly stole the other man. He opens his mouth, breath catching and gives in…he doesn’t have the words right now, but then again, they’ve always been more about gestures, and with shaking fingers he reaches into his pocket, hesitating for half a second before drawing out the box he’s been carrying for months and silently holding it out. It takes a moment, but he can see realisation dawning on Gabriel’s face as he reaches out with trembling hands to take it…sees the stunned smile that creeps across the battered face as he opens the box, and he’s so focused on watching the other man that he nearly misses the quiet whisper that follows. “Mi sol…yes...”


	345. Reaper76 + Marriage

Jack shifts nervously, reaching up to tug at the tie once more, although his hand is quickly swatted away as Ana huffs at him in irritation and he glowers in the direction of the blur that he things is her. He wishes that he could see, although maybe that would be worse because it would make this more real…it still doesn’t feel real, and he’s terrified that he’s going to blink and wake up in the middle of nowhere, just an old battered mercenary once more.

“You’d better get that ring on his finger before he bolts,” Ana’s teasing voice breaks into his thoughts, and he jolts, realising that something has happened while he was thinking, jumping when familiar hands take hold of his, and a warm chuckle fills the air. He doesn’t need to be able to see to recognise this man, a smile tugging at his lips as he allows himself to be pulled closer, breath catching as it dawns on him that this is really happening…that proposal decades again finally coming to pass…and it’s only when Gabriel’s brush his cheeks that he realises that he’s crying, although the other man doesn’t sound much better when he finally speaks.

“Come on Mi Luna, it’s time for you to make an honest man of me.”


	346. Reaper76 + Fairy King

    The man sleeping beside him is a far cry from the one he had fallen in love years ago, blond hair turned silver, pale skin marred with scars and bearing the signs of age, spirit battered and bruised with grief and guilt. Yet there is still something, something that Gabriel had never been able to put a name too that draws him in, pulls his gaze back to Jack no matter where they are or what they’re doing. It’s more evident in the early hours, moonlight creeping in through the window and bathing them both in its silvery light, causing an almost ethereal glow around his sleeping companion and he finds his breath catching …it’s like a halo, but he knows better than anyone that Jack Morrison is no angel…but then he’s not a devil either, even with their reconciliation Gabriel knows that title still belongs to him. Worrying at his bottom lip, he reaches out, fingers gentle as he brushes silvery stands away from the other’s face, ghosting over the deepest scar…this close the other man almost looks fey, a Fairy King trapped in the wrong world…and there’s a tightness in his chest, a sudden panicky feeling that has him shifting closer and wrapping his arms around Jack as though to keep him there.


	347. Reaper76 + Owl

    Going back to how things had been was never an option, too many things had changed and been lost, but Gabriel had never anticipated just how hard it would be to find his place in this new world. He had spent too long alone, existing alone in the darkness when everyone else was sleeping… a night owl trapped in a reality of his own, while the rest of the world was sleeping. He’s seen too much, done too much…and more than once, he had wondered if he should have just stayed away. But then there were days like this when he would wake to find himself curled against Jack’s side, their fingers tangled together between them and he would find himself able to breathe, the darkness receding a little as he stared as silvery hair and scarred features. He couldn’t go back to how things were, he couldn’t just slip into a new world, a new rhythm…but maybe, just maybe he could learn.


	348. Reaper76 + Snow King

    It’s cold, bitterly so and Jack can feel it settling into every nook and cranny of his body, a deep ache settling over him as he shifts from side to side, fingers tapping anxiously against his arms. There’s nothing around him, snow stretching out as far as he can see, stained red by the light of his visor and a small part of him can’t help but wonder if that’s a sign…if tonight isn’t a mistake…hell, he’s not even sure if Gabriel…Reaper…will show. Perhaps it will be better if he doesn’t, there’s still so much clouding the air between them and he’s not sure that the world can handle them going down memory lane, if they can handle it, even as his lips burn at the memory of the heated kiss they had shared a couple of weeks ago.

“Running away again Jack?” The soft voice makes him jump, and he’s startled to realise that he’d moved, giving in to his doubts without realising and he freezes…eyes widening as he scans the area, finally spotting Gabriel appearing amongst the swirling snow, winter coat and swirling mist giving him an otherworldly appearance. “Jack…”

“It’s cold…I was heading for shelter.” Jack replies, sharper than intended, sighing when Gabriel shifts and swirls, nearly disappearing from sight for a moment. “Sorry…” _I don’t know how to speak to you anymore, I don’t know if we should be doing this…and I’m sorry._


	349. Jack Morrison + Dad

He never knew how to react when the word ‘Dad’ would slip from their lips. More often than not, it was said jokingly, more out of irritation than anything when he was fussing and worrying about them… he could deal with that, retorts rising easily even when something strange would shift in his chest. What was more difficult to deal with was when the word would slip out amid a mission when things had gone to hell, and they were clawing at his arm, teeth clenched in pain, pleading for him to do something to make it stop. It was only found himself willingly tearing both himself and the world apart to make sure that they got home, that they were safe that he began to understand what that feeling was…that he began to realise that at some point this new Overwatch had become his family again, just with ties that ran deeper, because now there was no Strike Commander…no internal rifts…just an old washed out soldier, his friends and a new generation that at some point had become his kids.


	350. Jack Morrison + Caring

     _That heart of yours is going to get you into trouble one day._ Gabriel had been the one to warn him, years before their friendship had fallen apart when the other man had been forced to drag him out of a fight after he’d used himself to shield a newbie. He had laughed it off, not believing it and at the time not caring…but that had changed, he had changed, Switzerland had seen to that, and for a while, he had shut himself off completely. It was easier to operate, easier to move forward if he didn’t care if he didn’t let himself dwell on what had been lost and all the people he had failed…it was easier…but it didn’t last because that wasn’t who he was. It had been the girl in Dorado, her terrified eyes as the grenade had landed in front of her that had reminded him of who he was, that he was supposed to care even if it did end up tearing him apart.


	351. Jack Morrison + Model

     He avoided the mirror these days. It wasn’t particularly out of vanity, after all there was no one and nothing to look good for anymore, something he was privately relieved about as it had always left a bitter taste in his mouth to see his face pasted everywhere…nor was it out of guilt, he didn’t need a reflection to remind him that he had played a major role in the downfall of Overwatch, as that was something that plagued him every day. Instead, it was to avoid seeing the evidence of what had been lost, not that he could ever truly forget…and to avoid confronting the reality of his age, something that seemed to be creeping up on him more and more nowadays. It was there in the way that his reactions had slowed, the healing wound on his shoulder testament to that fact…and in the silvery hair that now covered his hair. It was to hide from the fact that he was no longer the model soldier, but an old man falling apart at the seams because if he acknowledged that fact and let it in, he knew he would falter and that was not something he could allow to happen. Not yet…


	352. Jack Morrison + Sunflower

     The farm was nothing like how he had remembered it, the once pristine yard now overgrown with weeds and the white walls of the house were now covered in dirt and ivy that had grown unattended in the last few years. The fields around were bare of crops, weeds and grass covering the soil, while the barns lay empty and in various stages of disrepair, something that would have had his parents tearing their hair out if they could see it. For Jack, though there was something about the empty, abandoned feel to his childhood home that felt right, a strange ease settling over him as he explored the outbuildings. Maybe it was because he had lost everything and needed to rebuild himself and his life from the ground up, or maybe it was because this place was so removed from everything that had happened that he could breathe at last. It was in his mother’s garden that he finally found a trace of life, a solitary sunflower poking up from amongst the mess although it had fallen back against the wall and seemed to be relying on it to remain upright, lips quirking slightly as he reached out to touch the petals.


	353. R76 + Gentle

    It was the gentleness that broke him, tears slipping down weathered cheeks as he lost himself in the sensation of Gabriel’s fingers trailing across his face, committing each new scar and wrinkle to memory before moving lower. It had been a long time coming this night, there had been too much history, too much anger…too much of everything but love between them when they had first found each other again, realising that their deaths were yet another lie, another secret to add to the mess. It had been a complicated dance in the years since then, starting in flurried fights, guns blazing and insults exchanged before one day Jack had shielded Gabriel from his own people. It had been a turning point, a shift that saw a ceasefire, insults slowly changing to angry words and arguments that raked up all the issues they had been avoiding, and as time passed their interactions had become softer, conversations rather than arguments, a slow dance back towards the place they had shared before the fall. It had been longer still until tonight when Jack had finally dared to reach out, fingers brushing Gabriel’s, lips meeting in a shy kiss…shaky whispers of feelings that had never really died, and a gentle heat that washed over them and burnt away the last remnants of the past.


	354. R76 + Flight

“Gabe…” The name, one that he hadn’t let himself think about let alone say for years, slipped out, little more than a whisper and yet somehow deafening in the silence that followed. The man in front of him, if he could even be called that anymore had frozen, mist swirling beneath him as wild crimson eyes studied him, recognition slowly spreading across the scarred face that had been revealed when a wayward shot had taken out his mask. “Gabe is that really…” The sound of the shotguns being readied was the only answer he got, and his heart hammered in his chest…he knew that he was right, there was no way he wouldn’t recognise that face even after all this time and with the changes it had undergone. His fingers tightened on his weapon for a moment, instincts urging him to fight, to kill the man who moments before had been trying to kill him and was readying himself to try again…but this was Gabe, his Gabe and not some faceless enemy and taking a shuddering breath he lowered his weapon. It had been years before he had listened to the flight side of his instincts, but now he gave into them because he couldn’t kill Gabe and he didn’t want to give the other man a chance to kill him…not before they talked, not before he found out how this was even possible.


	355. R76 + Listless

Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, not even bothering to reach out and turn off the alarm, letting the irritating noise flood his ears in the hopes that it would quiet his thoughts. He just couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t surge out of bed and be the poster boy of Overwatch, he didn’t have any energy left to feign a smile and spout words that he no longer believed. Instead, he rolled onto his side, reaching out with trembling fingers and brushing the empty space beside him, remembering the time when it hadn’t been empty when it had been warm and full…a shuddering breath going through him as he rolled over and buried his face in what had been Gabe’s pillow. His partner’s scent had long since faded, but if he pretended hard enough he could half imagine that there was a faint echo of musk and spice, and he sighed…closing his eyes as any lingering spark of energy disappeared. He just wanted to stay here and pretend that things hadn’t fallen apart around him, that he wasn’t alone…that Gabe could no longer even meet his gaze when they encountered one another, let alone speak to him.


	356. R76 + Touch

     It was beyond foolish, he knew that the man above him was no longer the Gabriel Reyes he had known and loved, nor was he the same man who had fallen for him and yet he still found himself leaning into the cool touch against his cheek. It wasn’t soothing or familiar as he had hoped, metal claws scraping against already scarred skin and a moment later he felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of blood against his skin and yet still he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, a soft noise, half hiss of pain and half longing escaped, and he felt the fingers still, the air growing cooler at the rough chuckle that followed.

“You never change Jack.” It wasn’t a compliment, anger colouring the words and this time Jack couldn’t stop himself groaning as the claws pressed harder against his skin. “Maybe this time I should make sure you can never forget my touch, never forget me…”


	357. R76 + Hate

“Do you hate me, Gabe?” Jack asked with a bitter laugh, head swimming from where the other man had slammed him into the wall, but the pain was easily forgotten in favour of focusing on the fingers tightening around his throat and the cool breath tickling his face. He wished that he still had his visor so that he could see the other man, but he didn’t need to…he could easily imagine the hate and anger twisting Gabriel…Reaper’s face, after all, it was an expression he had become intimately familiar with in the last days of Overwatch. “I think you do,” he continued when there was no answer, not that he needed one, not after the other man had spent so long hunting him down.” But I doubt you hate me as much as I hate myself.”


	358. R76 + Mercy

“Kill me.” He had imagined his reunion with Gabriel a hundred different times since learning who Reaper really was, but he had not once thought that those would be the words that greeted him when he finally had the other man pinned, rifle pressed warningly against his chest.

“What…?”

“I said kill me,” the words were softer this time, and Jack closed his eyes. For a moment, he had actually sounded like Gabriel, and for a moment he felt like they were back in his office in Zurich, only he was the one pressed against the ground, and it was Gabriel’s weapon against his chest.  Would things have been different if Gabriel had hardened his resolve and gone through with it? Probably not, the base would’ve still exploded…but maybe just maybe he would have had a chance to get out of there alive and whole… apparently, Reaper’s thoughts had followed the same path, and he found himself flinching at the quiet words that followed. “Don’t make the same mistake I made.”


	359. R76 + Hero

“Why?” Reaper hissed, his form wavering and threatening to dissolve at any moment as he stared down at the bloody form in his arms, still not sure what had possessed him to reach out and catch the other man when Jack had so foolishly thrown himself into the path of the Talon guns that had suddenly turned against him.

“Heroes never die.” The old phrase was nearly enough to throw him off the deep-end, must curling around him as he prepared to leave, but it was the expression on Jack’s face that stopped him…something unpleasant and warm uncurling in his chest as he realised that the soldier was staring at him, that he was talking about him.

“I’m no hero…”


	360. R76 + Home

    He had never thought that it would feel like being home when he found himself waking with Jack pressed against his back, arms tight around his waist as though the younger man was afraid that he was going to slip away again. It wasn’t supposed to have happened, not again, not after their relationship had destroyed both them and Overwatch in the end, and yet seeing Jack again, realising he was alive had been like a siren call and here they were. Cautiously he rolled over so that he was facing Jack, heart aching as he took in the damage that Zurich and the years since had wrought on his lover, reaching out to trail a finger over the deepest scar. They had both changed, too much he had thought at first and yet they had come together, fitting against one another in a way that they hadn’t for years and it hurt…it hurt to realise that maybe they could have had this sooner if they had been less stubborn, less angry. Leaning in he pressed a lingering kiss to Jack’s lips, eyes softening as the other man stirred, milky eyes inching open as the grumpy expression he remembered from years before appeared for a moment before Jack realised what was happening and who was there and Gabriel chuckled at the familiar sight, another piece of home sliding into place.

_I’m really home…_


	361. R76 + Surrender

     Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of his hiding place, fingers tightening around the grip of his rifle for a moment before he released it, letting it clatter to the ground behind him as he moved forward. It went against every instinct he had to go in unarmed like this, especially as he caught the way Reaper’s fingers tightened worryingly against the triggers of the shotguns pointed in his direction, but he had resolved to this the moment he had worked out who was behind the mask.

“What are you doing old man?”

“Surrendering,” Jack murmured softly, glad that his mask hid the way his expression had twisted at the sound of Reaper’s voice. He had been hoping to hear some trace of Gabriel, but there was nothing of the warm voice to be heard in the rough growl, and it made his heart ache. “It’s what you want, isn’t it? To win, to end this? I’m not going to fight you…not again Gabe.”


	362. R76 + Defeat

     There were tears in his eyes as he watched Gabriel walking away, shoulders straight and head held high, no sign that the words he had just uttered were tearing him apart in the same way they were ripping their way through Jack’s heart. He wasn’t surprised, it hurt to realise a moment later, his own shoulders slumping in defeat when his partner…former partner…passed out of sight, closing the door to his office with trembling fingers and sinking down against it. Part of him knew that this had been inevitable. Set in motion the moment he had been put up for the promotion instead of Gabriel, or more accurately the moment he had accepted it despite his misgivings. It did nothing to ease the ache in his chest as angry words replayed through his mind, the first sob welling up as he buried his head in his hands. _Gabe…_


	363. R76 + Death

He had entered the fight knowing that there was no way for him to win, but it didn’t stop the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth as he listened to Reaper stalking closer. His visor had been lost early on, and while he had learnt to fight without it, it was a disadvantage he could ill afford, and it had shown, fewer and fewer of his attacks actually hitting home…and then his world had dissolved into pain. One shot through his left knee sending him crashing to the ground, another in his arm forcing his rifle from his grasp as he found himself unable to do anything but focus on staying conscious, waiting, listening for the other man’s next move. He already knew what it was going to be, but it didn’t stop him from recoiling when cold metal pressed against his forehead, trapping him in place and making him hiss as the pressure increased, breath tickling his skin for a minute as Reaper leant in to whisper in his ear.

“You lose.”

_You die._


	364. R76 + Mafia Au

“This is your fault,” Jack hissed as they heard more windows shattering in the backroom and the sound of people crawling in, blue eyes narrowing as he glanced across at Gabriel who had a wild grin on his face as he reloaded his shotguns. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“You were the one that wanted to expand the business.”

“Not by starting a turf war,” Jack pointed out, even as he checked his own weapon as they heard footsteps approaching the bar which was currently concealing them from view, although the proximity of their attackers didn’t stop him from hissing at his partner. “I hope they shoot you.”

“No, you don’t,” Gabriel countered smugly, leaning in to smash their lips together, barely giving Jack a chance to respond before pulling away and rising from his hiding spot, guns already blasting and Jack is torn between killing him and protecting him. The latter winning out as he rises to his feet, trying not to notice the familiar rush at being able to fight by Gabriel’s side.


	365. R76 + Familiars

Reaper froze, barely daring to breathe as there was movement in the shadows behind Jack’s crumpled form, blue eyes gleaming in the darkness as the snow leopard moved to stand protectively over its owner, a low distressed noise rumbling in its throat. There had been a time when the giant cat had trusted him and been just as happy to curl up with him as it had with Jack, but now there was no sign that it even recognised him and he swallowed…Jack needed help, the bright light of his soul flickering worryingly but when he tried to inch forwards he was met with a warning snarl. Freezing again he cursed, angry that he had left his own familiar behind to watch over Sombra on her current mission because he knew that the leopard would have recognised the owl at least. “Please, let me help him…just this time?” He knows it’s a long shot, that he sounds nothing like the man he’d been back then, but there must be something in his voice because the leopard slowly, cautiously slinks to one side, teeth bared in threat but making no move to attack when he moves forward again. “Thank you…”


	366. R76 + Magic

    Jack had never really believed in magic, too caught up in the world of the military, in the world of silence to give credence or time to the supernatural. He had been naïve he realised as he ducked down behind the ruined wall, Junkenstein’s cackle filling the air as more explosions rocked the castle behind him and he knows that it’s only a matter of time before it falls, before he falls as Ana had only moments before. He can still hear the sharp retort of McCree’s gun and the softer thwunk of Hanzo’s arrows, but it’s not enough, they’re not enough, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth…the only comfort he can draw from the situation was that at least his rockets had been enough to take down Reaper, to finish the monster that was all that remained of the man that he had loved.

“Jack…” The soft whisper, a mockery of the warm voice that had once whispered in his ears during the long hours of the night has him flinching, eyes widening with horror as he realises that mist is gathering into a familiar figure in front of him. It’s as the shotguns come to bear on him once more, flaming eyes meeting his, that he realises that he really should have believed in magic before this.


	367. R76 + Witches

    Jack tries not to listen to the screams, the pleading that falls from the witch’s lips as Gabriel tortures her, relentless in his efforts to get the information…the name…he had been seeking from the moment he had woken from certain death, to find himself as something more and less than human. There are times like this, when the crimson eyes are alight with unholy rage and hatred that Jack wonders why he is still here, why he had chosen to follow this creature, to let him stain both their hands in red. But he knows… he’s there because it had been his actions or rather lack of actions that had led to Gabriel’s death…his frantic pleas to the gods, to whoever was listening to bring him back that had led to the witch who had cursed him into this form. It’s his curse, to watch, to witness and share in the sin of taking innocent lives… torn between hoping that they’ll find her, that they’ll find the right witch and the hunt will end…and hoping that they never find her, because regardless of what else she has done, she did give him Gabriel.


	368. R76 + Videogames

     It had started with a request from Hana. Everyone else was either away on missions or busy with something, avoiding her, Gabriel had grumbled under his breath even as he had allowed Jack to tug him along without much of a fight. It was something they had done when they were younger, on the rare periods of leave they would hole up in one of their rooms and play games, neither of them tending to win as it was more fun to see how much they could distract the other…which often led to other activities. Jack had thought that they’d been over that, especially with their relationship currently in a delicate, fledging state, and yet barely ten minutes in, the completeness that had flared between them had disappeared, replaced by nudges, teasing comments and innuendos…both seeking for an edge, but not in the game, allowing Hana to easily flatten the pair of them. By the end of it, she had won every game, and Jack and Gabriel were so tightly pressed together that they might as well have been sat in one another’s lap, Gabriel’s lips pressed against the side of Jack’s neck…their soft smiles fading when she turned on them with narrowed eyes, and a wicked smirk playing on her lips.

“You do realise that I just streamed all of that….?”


	369. R76 + Dog

      Gabriel yawned widely as he slowly drifted awake, ignoring the sensation of too many mouths opening with the ease of practice and instead focusing on the weight resting against his chest, the warmth that he knew was actually normal but felt scorching against his own permanently chilled flesh. Opening his eyes, he blinked, smiling when his vision was obscured with white hair, fingers rising to stroke through it even as he tilted his head just enough to glimpse Jack’s face, the scarred visage relaxed and open as he snored softly. It was rare for him to wake before his husband, as Jack still tended to keep old habits even though they had retired years ago, and he intended to savour this chance to see him this vulnerable,r this content…a plan ruined a moment later by the familiar patter of feet against the floor, and he had a split second to protest before another weight slammed into them.  He grunted at the additional weight, Jack coming awake with a startled cry and he knew it was a good thing that they no longer slept with a weapon in reach, especially when their Labrador crawled up Jack’s back to lick at both of their faces, completely unaware of how close he could have come to an untimely death…although Gabriel is less than sympathetic as he gets slobbered over, tugging softly at Jack’s hair when his husband grumbles under his breath.

“Remind me again, why did you want a dog?”


	370. R76 + Mate

       Reaper doesn’t bother with the clasps, ripping the mask of Solider 76 with an angry growl, clumsily leaving pinpricks of blood on the other man’s skin when his claws press to deep. The sight of the face underneath makes him freeze for a moment, anger and longing warring in his chest, the features familiar despite being ruined by age and scarring and it’s almost enough…almost…His movements are gentler, mindful of the injuries that he had inflicted earlier and cautious of his claws as he eases the distinctive jacket down, using his claws to cut through the under armour, just enough to bare one pale shoulder. It’s enough. The mark is faded, diminished by the years apart and the broken feelings between them, but it’s still there, red against Jack’s skin and its Gabriel who gathers him close this time, longing winning out against the anger as his own mask dissolves so that he can press a trembling kiss to the mark. Their mark…his mark…


	371. Lo Siento alternative

    Gabriel wakes up again, still under the rubble and teetering on the edge of dying. But he wakes up, just in time to hear Jack being found by a rescue crew and for a moment he thinks that maybe, just maybe they’ll make it out…that he’ll get a chance to tell Jack that he doesn’t hate him, that he forgives him and that he’s sorry.  But when he starts calling through the communicator, voice barely above a whisper he realises that no one can hear him at the other end…and all he can do is listen as they pull Jack out of there. Jack is crying out for him, pleading with his rescuers to help Gabe. Telling them to leave him and find Gabriel, because he’s the one that needs to be saved and not Jack. He can hear the rescuers talking over Jack’s cries, clearly not understanding what’s going on and Jack is too out of it between the pain he’s in and the panic at the thought of Gabe being left behind that he can’t explain about the communicator or that Gabe can probably hear them.

     He can hear scuffling at the other end, and it takes him a few minutes to realise that Jack is frantically trying to dig through the rubble and find him. He tries calling out again, but his voice is failing him, and the signal over the communicator is becoming more and more distorted. Then he hears Jack screaming his name and the sound of struggling, as though the rescue team are trying to pull him away, and the last thing he hears is his name half-sobbed, half-whispered before Jack’s voice cuts off abruptly, plunging him into silence. And that’s all he can hear, that last, half-broken whisper of his name playing over and over in his mind as he succumbs to his injuries.


	372. Jack x Gabe + Torture

   This was not how things were supposed to end, and Jack had no idea how it had come to this…to him strung up down in the depths of Blackwatch’s cells, a camera focused on him so that the UN committee who had provided the evidence against him and demanded his interrogation could watch, and Gabriel standing in front of him with a blank expression. Blank, if you didn’t know what to look for. Jack could see it, see the pain, the guilt in the dark eyes, and he knew that his partner was one step away from rebelling, from refusing to obey commands and his stomach clenched. He could handle the betrayal that had landed him here, handle the pain of the cuts and bruises littering his body, many of them delivered by Gabriel’s hands…but he couldn’t handle the thought of Gabriel getting dragged into this, and so he lifted his head, trying not to focus on the way his vision wavered, or the dizziness sweeping over him and instead focusing on the dark eyes.

“It’s okay…” _I forgive you, I’m sorry,_ he didn’t dare say those words aloud, not when they were being watched, but he hoped that Gabriel would understand all the same as he turned his head towards the camera and the damning red light that was flashing in the corner, knowing that he’s about to sign his own death warrant. “I’ll confess to anything you want…” _Just don’t hurt Gabe…_


	373. Jack x Gabe + Protect

Gabriel buried his head in his hands, blocking out the piles of paperwork waiting for his attention and the dark, lonely office that seemed to have become his home these days. It didn’t help to block out the images, the thoughts conjured by the reports that he had been reading…the fear churning in his stomach as he realised that both he and his people were being led into a trap, their reputation slowly but steadily being dragged through the dirt, to the point where it wouldn’t take much for them to be tossed aside in order to protect the cracks that ran through Overwatch as a whole. He knew that he should take this to Jack, take all the evidence he had spent months gathering it and prove to him what was really going on under his nose…knew that he owed it to himself, and to the men and women under his command. And yet… he was scared, scared that Jack wouldn’t believe him with the distance that had been growing between them…scared that he would drag Jack into this mess as well.


	374. Jack x Gabe + Hurt

“What the hell are you doing?” Gabriel demanded as he stepped into the small room they had taken refuge in, if you could even call it a room with one wall completely gone and another threatening to cave in, eyes fixated on where Jack was in the process of attempting to clumsily stitch up the gash that had forced them to retreat in the first place. Jack’s sewing was haphazard at the best of times, but considering the blood trickling down the side of his face and the unfocused gaze, it was likely that he had no idea what he was trying to do or how to do it. The fact that he had jolted violently at the question was another sign of how out of it he was, and Gabriel sighed, expression softening as he moved across to join him, gently pulling the needle and thread out of trembling fingers. “Let me do that you idiot,” the insult was soft, fond as he set to work on the injury with steady hands, murmuring apologies whenever Jack flinched or groaned.


	375. Jack x Gabe + Nightmare

   Jack started awake as a fist connected with the side of his jaw, his vision blurring for a moment as pain exploded across his face, but he shook it off quickly as he heard Gabriel’s frantic voice from beside him. He had to dodge another blow as he rolled to look at his partner, understanding dawning as he took in the closed eyes, and the way Gabriel’s expression was twisted with a mix of fear and fury. Nightmares. It was something they were painfully familiar with, and his heart ached when he realised that Gabriel was calling for him, demanding to know where he was…shivering as he flashed back to their last mission, no doubt the inspiration for this particular nightmare, where he had been captured and questioned, and for two long weeks Gabe had been left to fear that he was dead. It was harder than he wanted to admit to calm himself, to stop the tremble in his own hands as he reached out to grasp Gabriel’s face, lightly tapping his cheeks in an attempt to wake him, voice wavering slightly as he called to him.

“I’m here Gabe, I’m here…I’m home. I’m safe.”

_I’m safe…_


	376. Jack x Gabe + Loss

    _This couldn’t be happening._ Jack couldn’t move, couldn’t seem to breathe, all thoughts of his own safety and the mission flying from his head as he stared at the building as it crumbled in front of his eyes. The building where Gabriel and his team had been…the building they had been evacuating…he wanted to throw up, but he quelled the urge as he curled his fingers around his communicator and brought it to his mouth, throat working soundlessly for a moment before he managed to get his voice to work.

“Reyes? REYES!” Gabriel always replied at once, something that Jack had chided him for on more than one occasion when he had returned with an extra wound because he had been distracted by replying… but today there was nothing but the damning crackle of static in his ear, and he swallowed, silently begging Gabriel to take the chance and reply. “Reyes! Report!” He barked again, numbly waving off the others who were trying to get his attention, unable to focus on anything but the fresh crackle of static in his ear and his composure shattered completely a moment later when even that sound vanished. “GABE!”


	377. R76 + Panic

    He comes back to himself, humanity and sanity returning as the nanites finally manage to pull him back into some semblance of a human form and it takes a moment for the world to come into focus and his memories to return. He almost wishes that he hadn’t come back as the memories sink in, and he whirls, almost disintegrating again as panic engulfs him…he remembers the flash of the helix rockets seconds before he had lost control, and then there are flashes, flashes of blood and a distinctive red 76…flashes of silver hair and pained cries…

“J-Jack.” His voice cracks as his gaze lands on the figure slumped by the far wall, and it takes everything he has to hold himself together as he moves to the other man’s side, panic shifting to terror as he takes in the damage…the injuries that he had inflicted…and he’s a moment away from disintegrating completely when Jack stirs, groaning as his head falls slightly to the side, the single, milky-blue eye that is now visible behind the damaged mask slowly drifting open.

“Gabe…” He trails off, coughing weakly and Gabe struggles not to fall apart at the sight of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth that he can see. “You came, …back?” He sounds so relieved, so happy that Gabriel can’t hold back a noise that is half-sob, half-growl as he finally dares to reach out and grasp Jack’s shoulder, voice shaking when he finally gets it to work.

“Yeah…I’m back.” _I’m sorry…you’re safe now._


	378. R76 + Memory

Reaper is silent, watching impassively as the Talon operatives work to remove the memories that have been trickling back to Widowmaker over the past few weeks. It’s not the first time he’s witnessed the process or the first time he’s considered stepping in and stopping it…it is the first time that he’s considered undergoing it himself, needing, wanting to erase the memories he has of a certain Strike Commander and the relationship they’d shared before everything he had gone to hell. He’d thought that he’d had them securely locked away, trapped behind the wall of anger and betrayal that had sprung up in the wake of Zurich…but then he had realised that Jack was alive, that the man he had fought and nearly killed numerous times as Soldier 76 was one and the same as the man he had thought long dead, and the memories had been rising steadily since, weakening his resolve. The last time they had met he had deliberately missed a shot to spare the other man, a weakness he couldn’t allow, and yet…his hands curled into fists at his side as he stared at where Widowmaker was sitting up, expression blank once more before he sighed and took a step back. _Not yet…I can’t say goodbye just yet…_


	379. R76 + Hurt

“You were always terrible at taking care of yourself, Mi Sol.” The gravelly voice and familiar nickname were the last thing that Soldier 76 had expected to hear when he woke up, in fact, if he was being honest he hadn’t expected to wake, maybe even hoped that he wouldn’t. He tries to just lie there, as though ignoring his companion would make him and the current situation…and their past…disappear, but eventually, he opens his eyes, relieved to be met by the crimson tinged world that means he’s still wearing his visor although the mask is gone. For a moment, he stares at the ceiling, gathering his courage before tilting his head to the side, pain flooding his body even at that tentative movement…but it’s nothing compared to the pang he feels when he finds Reaper sat at his side, mask removed, staring at him with a concerned expression that he’d never thought to see again.

“Gabe…” It hurts to speak, and not just because of his injuries and his eyes sting as he glances away, unable to hold Gabriel’s gaze anymore. “Why didn’t you just leave me to die?”


	380. R76 + Forget

    Gabriel wakes to the feeling of Jack’s fingers gently moving across his face, tracing the contours of his cheeks, lingering for a moment on the scars left by Zurich. It tickles slightly, but he doesn’t push his partner away, instead just making a soft noise to let Jack know that he’s awake now, unsurprised when it makes Jack pause for a brief second before he resumes his mapping of Gabriel’s face. He had always loved to do this, but now there was a hint of desperation to the action, fear was written across his face as he repeats each movement several times and it makes Gabriel’s heart ache. However, he doesn’t move until Jack’s fingers finally falter and then he reaches down to gently grasp them, pulling them closer and squeezing softly.

“Jack…”

“I don’t want to forget…I don’t want to forget,” Jack whispers against him, letting Gabriel pull him into a hug and making no effort to escape, even as he curls in on himself as best as he can. For the most part he’s adapted to his blindness, his visor helping, but there are times like this…especially late at night when he would wake, terrified that he was going to forget what Gabriel really looked like, his memories faded with time and the loss of his sight, and whilst mapping Gabriel’s face helped, it was never for long, and Gabriel feared that one day he might not be able to ease his partner’s fear.


	381. R76 + Die

“You’re not allowed to die, Mi Sol,” Reaper’s voice is urgent, angry as he taps Jack’s cheeks in an attempt to wake him, jostling him roughly despite the wounds that he had just inflicted. “Not until you kill me.” It was a promise they had made when they’d realised that the other was alive and that the gulf between them wasn’t going to be bridged, the battle lines drawn between them to well established to be broken down by words and fond memories. It takes a couple of minutes but finally, Jack stirs, groaning softly, barely able to lift his head enough to squint at Gabriel with unfocused eyes, and any relief Reaper might have felt is ruined by the sad quirk of Jack’s lips.

“I guess…” Jack pauses, breath ragged as his head begins to sink once more. “I guess it’s another promise I’m going to be breaking…”


	382. Reaper76 + Sights

“GABRIEL REYES!” Jack managed to sound incredibly intimidating despite the caution with which he moves across the room towards Gabriel, obviously not trusting his husband to cheat and move the furniture around to confuse him.  “Give it back.”

“Not when you’re wearing that expression, Mi Luna,” Gabriel retorted, backing up again as Jack’s expression darkened, his fingers curling tighter around his prize…the tactical visor.  “I think it’s safer if I hold onto this for now, besides…” He smirked, his tone causing Jack to pause nervously and he took advantage of that hesitation to shadow step until he was right in front of his husband, carefully keeping the visor out of reach even as he gently cupped Jack’s face with his free hand, pressing a teasing kiss to the end of his nose. “I like to see your eyes every now and then,” his voice was softer now, lips gentle as he moved up his husband’s face, following the path of the scars, before pressing a tiny kiss to each eyelid as Jack’s eyes fluttered shut.


	383. Reaper76 + Blossoms

“You know,” Jack’s voice was soft, barely audible as he drew in a ragged breath, one hand weakly curled around Gabriel’s as he tilted his head up to offer the other man a smile. “I-I can see why you call it death blossom…it was beautiful…in its own way.”

“You’re the one who said that I had turned killing into an art…” Gabriel replied, both of them flinching at both the tone and the words, and he sighed. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated for a moment, studying the man in his lap before reaching out and gingerly running a clawed finger over the part of Jack’s face that was exposed beneath the partially destroyed mask, before letting his gaze drift down to the crimson now staining the other man’s front. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Jack sounded genuinely confused, which hurt more than anything, his expression turning distance as he turned his head so that he was staring at the sky above them. “This was how it should have ended in Zurich.”


	384. McReaper76 + Cake

“This was not quite what I’d had in mind for tonight,” McCree admitted, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he peered across at where Jack had dozed off. It was the first time they’d had to spend together, just the three of them since their reconciliation and he’d tried to make it special, cooking dinner…with only three disasters…and even going so far as to beg Ana to help him bake a cake for dessert…yet he couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed that Jack had fallen asleep, even if his slice of cake was largely untouched, the plate in danger of falling off his lap at any moment.

“I told you that we should have skipped dessert,” Gabe’s voice revealed nothing, but there was a softness to his eyes as he glanced across at Jack, some of his nanites shooting out just in time to catch the plate as Jack shifted, grumbling under his breath as he turned and curled against Gabriel. “Some of us,” he tilted his head pointedly down at Jack as he set the plate down on the ground out of harm's way. “Are old men now.”


	385. Reaper76 + Revenge

    Gabriel hesitated for a moment, fingers tightening around the skeletal mask as he stared at it before lifting his head to stare at his reflection, flinching at the sight of the scars covering his face…the eyes staring back at him, too many eyes, and his grip tightened even more. He was a monster. But putting on the mask, taking on the title of Reaper…was it a step too far?  A small part of him knew that it was, but then his gaze slipped down to the ring on his finger, the metal burning into his unnaturally cool skin and his expression hardened. Zurich…Overwatch…Talon…they had taken everything from him, his life, normality, a future…Jack. It was the latter that let him push through his hesitation, his fear, taking a deep, almost breath before slowly and deliberately lifting the mask and pressing it against his face. For Jack, he would become the monster…


	386. Dad76 + Florist

    Jack hummed under his breath as he worked on the flower arrangement, some half-remembered song from his youth, just mindless noise as he watched his hands working. His decision to retire out here and try his hand as a florist had been met with surprise, disbelief and derision and there were some days when he questioned his decision, the days when he looked at his bills and realised that he was barely making ends meet and the days when the doorbell never rang once. Then there were days like today, orders piling up and customers past and present popping in, some just to talk, others to shop…his hands constantly at work, a warm smile that actually reached his eyes never leaving his face, when he knew that he had made the right choice. These were the days when he could watch his hands, gnarled with age and covered in the damage of a life spent fighting, as they moved to make something beautiful…reminding him that he could do more than kill, that he was more than a soldier, a realisation that gave him a peace that he could never have achieved without taking this path.


	387. Dad76 + Retired

     Jack’s eyes narrowed as he watched the shadowy figures creeping across his front lawn, barely visible were it not for the visor he was wearing, and he knew that if he had been asleep like any normal person, then he wouldn’t have had a clue they were there until it was too late. He growled under his breath, glancing at where his rifle sat against the wall…he was supposed to be done with this kind of thing, retired, and his gaze darted to the phone on the sideboard…he could call for help, but would they get here in time. _Probably not…_ Besides, he was retired, not helpless and it was that thought which had him moving, lifting the rifle and hefting the familiar weight, a wicked grin creeping across his face. It seemed that his guests needed to be reminded of that fact, and he moved to the door, checking his weapon with experienced hands before shoving the door open and opening fire on the figure who had been reaching for the door.

“Young punks get off my lawn.”


	388. Dad76 + Chickens

   Whoever had suggested that he should retire to the old family farm needed to be shot, Jack decided as he stared down at the egg that he had just stepped on…the egg that had been deposited right in the middle of the mat outside the back door. Lifting his head, he shot a baleful look at the chickens dotted freely around the yard, wondering what had possessed him to get them in the first place…he wasn’t a farmer, not anymore and he had never really had any interest in it…but he’d wanted some company and something to do, and it was a farm even if he’d sold off most of the land and the livestock was long since gone. However, he seemed to have managed to purchase the most rebellious ones, not one of them laying regularly and every one of them refusing to lay in the hen house. Instead, he was faced with a treasure hunt every morning if he wanted to find where they had laid them, and he’d lost count of the number of eggs he’d lost because he’d stepped on them…or sat on them, he amended, shuddering at the memory of dampness seeping into his trousers the other night when he’d sat down on the swing seat. If he remembered correctly, it was Jesse who had suggested that he retired here, and he made a mental note to take a pot shot at the gunslinger when he next showed his face before squaring his shoulders and readying himself for the daily egg hunt.


	389. Dad76 + Baking

    The smoke alarm was blaring above his head, the shrill noise going straight through him as he fumbled with the oven, cursing as he realised he’d forgotten the glove and snatching it up, just in time to find himself with a mouthful of smoke as he swung the oven door open. Coughing, he reached for the cake tin and yanked it out, staring mournfully at the charred remnants of the cake he’d been trying to make, he was fairly sure that baking had been easier in the past…he could certainly remember making cupcakes with Fareeha when she was younger, and they hadn’t been burnt to a crisp, although maybe that was because she was in charge. Sighing he deposited the tin in the sink, reaching over to open up the window before turning off the oven and turning to glare at the smoke alarm, wondering how angry the landlord would be if he just destroyed it. Eventually he gave up and grabbed a chair to reach it, sighing with relief when the noise died before glancing back at the still steaming tin and contemplating what to do…he was nearly out of ingredients as this was his third attempt, and the others were due in less than hour and he groaned, realising that he was going to have to go give in and just buy something…maybe he could pretend he’d made it?


	390. Jack & Gabe + Talk

    This had to stop. Jack’s fingers were trembling as he stripped out his Strike Commander’s coat, hesitating for a moment before screwing it up and tossing it towards the bin, it was a futile gesture as it wouldn’t be as easy to get rid of as that, but right now he needed whatever he could get. Feeling more at ease in the plain black uniform that lay beneath he hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should just call Gabe and ask him to come to his rooms. But no…Gabe had been the one chasing after him for far too long, something that he had pretended not to notice and he knew that if this was going to work, he had to be the one to reach out this time.

   The corridors were thankfully empty as he made his way down towards the Blackwatch quarters, feeling a pang of guilt as it dawned on him just how long it had been since he’d come down here like this… not as the Strike Commander, but as Jack Morrison…it was painful to realise just how much he had been letting slip away from him, and there was a definite tremor to his hand as he reached Gabe’s quarters and knocked softly, his voice catching in his throat as the door opened far more quickly than he’d expected.

“Gabe…” He couldn’t bring himself to meet his partner’s gaze, shoulders hunched, suddenly terrified that he was going to be turned away…that he deserved to be turned away. “Can we talk?”


	391. Jack & Gabe + Fight

    It was a blow that would have knocked out a normal solider in a heartbeat, and even with his enhancements, it left Jack stunned and that brief second cost him, Gabriel using his weight to bear them both down to the ground and swiftly pinning Jack. For a fleeting moment, Jack paused to wonder what the people around them must be thinking, seeing their Strike-Commander and the Blackwatch Commander brawling in the corridor, but then his attention snapped back to Gabriel as the other man snarled at him, hand pressing uncomfortably against his throat.

“Ga…be.”

“Why? Why won’t you listen?” He had been expecting Gabriel’s voice to be as angry as his expression and loud enough to carry, not this soft, broken whisper that made him want to wrap the other man up and a hug. He couldn’t do that, not in public, instead he fought back the instinctive urge to fight back and protect himself and instead went limp, staring up at Gabriel and waiting for the other man to realise what he had done, the fingers shifting away from his neck giving him the courage to speak.

“I’m listening now.”


	392. Jack & Gabe + Remember

     Jack feigned sleep as he heard Gabriel slipping out of bed, not because he thought it would fool the other man, after all, they had known each other for too long to be tricked by such a simple act, but because he didn’t know what to say to him. It hurt. Of all the people, he had met through the SEP and Overwatch, he had never had to watch his words or thoughts around Gabe, trusting him, loving him…it had been his foundation for everything else and at some point, it had cracked, splintering beneath his feet without him even noticing. Now as he listened to Gabriel moving around the bedroom, gathering his clothes which had been scattered the night before when their attempts to talk had become an argument, and then an almost desperate coming together as they tried to cling to the slightest scrap of their relationship, he couldn’t remember the last time they had spoken easily. His eyes were stinging, and it took everything he had to hold back a sob as for a moment he felt fingers against his cheek, still not daring to break his act even when he heard Gabe sigh before pulling away, the door opening and closing a moment later.


	393. Kitty!Jack + Purr

    He hurt, everywhere, including places that he was fairly sure wasn’t supposed to hurt and yet he didn’t dare reach for the biotic emitter. He had managed to find an old apartment block to hide in, breaking into one of the flats and barricading himself in as best as he could, but he knew that Talon would still be out looking for him and in this area the distinctive golden glow would draw them like moths to a flame and he didn’t think he could handle another fight. His ears flicked uneasily back and forth as he set up camp as best as he could, biting at his lip as every movement sent pain flicking through him, his tail lashing in agitation against the floor. A low purr began to build in his chest as he huddled in on himself, the reality of his situation…low supplies, injured, hunted…crashing down on him, and he curled his tail around himself as the purring intensified despite his best attempts to silence himself in case the noise was enough to draw attention, but he needed it. Needed something, even something as pitiful as the vibrations of his own purring to calm him and after a few minutes, he abandoned his attempts to control the noise, instead closing his eyes and letting the sound wash over him.


	394. Kitty!Jack + Cuddle

There had been a time when cuddling had been a daily occurrence, something that he would actively seek out, even going so far as to nudge and nuzzle people if the need was great enough. He had fond memories of warm hands playing with his ears, murmuring in his ear and willingly holding close, laughing when he would sink his claws into their clothes if they tried to get up or leave him. Memories… that was all he had left nowadays, his ears laid back against his head, hidden beneath the hat he had jammed down over them as he moved through the town trying not to attract attention. He hated it, hated that he still longed for those days and those warm hands…hated that the moment someone came to close he would shrink in on himself, fighting the urge to lash out with his claws, touch…. let alone cuddling… a foreign, unwelcome sensation after all this time. And yet he missed it…


	395. Kitty!Jack + Hiss

He hadn’t been expecting it. He had been lost in his own thoughts that morning, hunched over his coffee, trying to banish the images that his nightmares had dragged to the surface, and hadn’t been paying attention to the world around him as it should have been too early for anyone else to be up and about. And without his visor on all he could make out was vague, blurry shapes, trusting his memory and touch to guide him around, which was why the gentle touch on his shoulder had him shooting out of his chair with a yowl and a hiss. He couldn’t see, couldn’t tell if it was a threat, ears laid flat against his head and tail lashing as he felt his fur stand on end as he backed up until he could feel a wall against his back.

“Who’s there?!”


	396. Reaper76 + Choice

    The old soldier sighed as he rubbed a hand across his face, glancing back at Reaper who had managed to push himself upright against the wall, one hand cradling his stomach where the nanites were frantically working to repair the damage caused by the ambush they had triggered. The floor around them was littered with bodies and rubble, and he knew even before he checked his rifle that his ammunition was low, certainly not enough to take on the UN forces that had gathered outside after their location had been betrayed to Petras. The parallels with Zurich left him feeling sick, especially now they knew the truth of Petras’ involvement, but it also settled his mind and sharpened his resolve, and he straightened. He had made this choice once before, although last time he had been too late, Zurich going up in flames around him before he could act, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again as he moved towards the door, not looking at the mercenary as he voiced his last command, and his last request.

“As soon as you can move, get out of here…and make sure you’re the one to put a bullet in his brain.”


End file.
